It looked like Braithe was composing a novel; the text in progress dots danced on the screen for what felt like ten minutes before her reply lit up Rainy’s screen.
What we had was special and he feels the same way. I can prove it.
She didn’t want to hear from Braithe again, not until she’d had a chance to talk to Grant face-to-face. That was fair, she thought; they’d both been holding back information. She could at least give him the truth about her own past.
She saw that Braithe had texted her again, and she almost deleted it without reading…almost. Curiosity won. Braithe had sent four photos. Letters laid out on a white bedspread.
When Rainy zoomed in, she saw that they were photos of handwritten letters from Grant, or at least his name was signed to them. She wouldn’t read the content. Braithe was trying to bait her. She slammed her phone on the counter and thought about calling Grant; this was nuts, what exactly was she trying to prove?
Those are old letters, she sent back.
Lol. They are. You’re too sharp for your own good, Rainy.
She stared hard at the text, her face contorting as she tried to work out what was bugging her. She’d spent the last year getting to know Braithe, and had never once seen this side of her, or any hint of it. Maybe she was drinking, maybe she was having an emotional breakdown; someone—her family—needed to stage an intervention. She thought about sending a screenshot to Viola, but decided against it. Viola needed to soak up these days softly, not be embroiled in drama. After a few minutes of deliberation, she typed out a text to Braithe and hit Send.
Braithe, you need to talk to Stephen. You need help. Please stop texting me.
There. And she could always block her number if she didn’t. Ticking behind her eyes was the start of a headache that promised to hit hard.
She put her phone down, stepped away. Rainy tried to bring herself back to the present, to the problem, to the people involved—but the past was an oily, gelatinous thing rotting in the periphery of her mind. She purposefully lived in places that gave her no muscle memory for that place: first the city and then the forest. This is your fault, she told herself. You went back there and opened a door for the demons to sneak back in. But she didn’t believe that. Or did she? She was still staring at the phone when she heard the ping of a message received. She didn’t even need to open it to see what it said.
This isn’t Braithe.
22
Now
Stop playing games. Who is this?
She waited five minutes…ten. The dots had disappeared; Rainy was pacing in front of the window, chewing the inside of her cheek.
“This isn’t real,” she said to no one. She hit the call button; it rang twice before Braithe’s soothing voice told her to leave a message. She tried Grant and Stephen next; neither of them picked up.
She stared at the ceiling. She could find Braithe’s family on social media—she had a sister she spoke about—and tell them what? She couldn’t out whatever this was to Braithe’s family if she hadn’t even told her own husband.
“I have to call Tara back,” she said aloud. “Oh my God.” She hit the call button before she could change her mind and waited. Tara’s voice was curt when she answered; Rainy could hear a buzz of noise behind her.
“Hello.”
“Hey, it’s Rainy. Do you have a minute to talk? It’s about Braithe.”
“Hold on,” Tara said.
She heard muffled voices, and then, seconds later, Tara spoke so loudly Rainy jerked her head back from the receiver.
“What is it, Rainy? I’m out with Mike and I only have a few minutes.”
Okay…how exactly was she supposed to sum this up in a few minutes? God, Tara was a pain in the ass.
“Braithe is being weird—and I don’t think it’s Braithe.”
Tara cut in. “You don’t have to tell me, okay—she actually had the audacity to threaten me. Like, I am over it. Done.”
“Wait—what do you mean, she threatened you?”
She heard Tara say, “Shit, shit, shit—sorry. Hold on—”
Rainy switched her phone from one ear to the other.
“I did something a few years ago,” Tara said. “I don’t want to get into it, but Braithe sent me screenshots and basically told me that if I got involved in this, she was going to…share them.” She sounded scared now. “That would, like, ruin my life. She’s such a bitch.”
“Okay, but you don’t think that’s weird, Tara?” Rainy plugged a finger into her own ear to try to hear Tara better, but there was more noise coming from Tara’s end of the line.