Chapter 19
I think the others probably had a celebration, just like they used to. They probably partied, got drunk, maybe had a nice dinner, anything to feel alive, some small token of happiness that we were moving forward again. For me, I saw it for what it was, a day off. I could spend the entire day with Amanda, and we were both pretty determined to make things work, even if we were afraid to say how much yesterday bothered us.
We sat at a small restaurant. The room was dark, nothing but a candle between us. Amanda stared at the menu, her fingers rolling between the pages. She wasn't focusing on me, but I couldn't take my eyes off her.
"Amanda," I tried. I reached across the table, trying to take her hand. All I got was her eyes, staring over the top of the menu.
"I am so sorry, I know we had plans, but Alley-"
She didn't let me finish. "They told me," she said. She didn't want to talk about things any more than I did, "They're not trying to break us up, they just don't want to be trapped. Alley told me everything that first day, told me her entire plan."
I let my eyebrow rise, "Everything?"
She let the menu fall, and the two of us were eye to eye.
"Did she tell you what we did? Did she tell you-"
"I didn't want to know Charlie," her words were quick, a bookend that silenced the discussion.
I lifted my hand, a feeble defense, then continued, "I wish I didn't have to do it either, but a part of this affects you too. Amanda. There's gonna be another Hannah. The woman we went after was married, and she's not gonna take this well."
The m word caught her attention. A small shutter ran down her neck, but she struggled to find a response.
"I think you should start carrying a gun," I said. I made my voice low, barely audible in the crowded restaurant, "and if you don't want to hurt people, that's fine, but you need a way out. You know how painful it can be."
She let her eyes drop, but I could see she was mulling it over. She tried to picture herself pulling the trigger. Another part of her mind thought logistically, trying to imagine where she'd find a gun, a place she'd get one
every single day.
"Her name's Mary," I said softly, "Mary Spellman. And she
is
going to be a problem. She won't be the last. They all came up with an idea- I was outvoted - and they want me to start going after the difficult ones. The married ones. The widows. Things like that. Amanda, you
know
what that means. Things are going to get worse. There's going to be a small army looking to torture me. Kill me. Maybe even hurt you."
Her eyes kept fixed to the table, still considering the gun, everything else just deluge in her crowded mind.
"I'm not saying they'll all be like that," I said, "but some will. We might not even get through this dinner- we might not-"
"What does she look like?" Amanda interrupted. It was a question she'd never asked, one that went so far against our
no details
policy.
"I mean she was older, a little-"
Another interruption. This time her hand was out, her finger pointed, fixed at a table behind me, "did she look like that?"
I turned slowly, hesitant to look. Meeting her eyes might mean my very public execution.
"She's been staring at you all night," Amanda whispered. Her voice was deadly quiet, her lips barely moving, but her eyes never left the figure.
I forced myself to turn and braced for the worst. I pictured Mary's chubby face, laced with anger and betrayal. I let myself imagine Hannah, her knife already drawn.
I didn't recognize the face I saw, not at first. I saw a face that was chubby, more so than Mary, but much older. Her eyes met mine, and the woman offered a feeble smile.
She gave a nervous wave, but I didn't recognize her until she stepped forward and I saw that glint in her eye.
"Sadie," I mouthed.
Her smile was painful but she forced it wider. I tried to make sense of the woman I was seeing, a woman who'd let the cancer spread through her body, allowed herself to put on weight, get older.
"Sadie," I repeated, still trying to make sense of the word, "You look-"
"I know," she mouthed, "Some things are worth getting old for."
Her feeble smile came back, but the sadness never quite left her eyes.
I wouldn't let myself say "Sadie" a third time. I stood and took a step closer towards her, but she kept her distance, that same sad look.
"Can we talk?" I asked. I made my voice as quiet as possible, words only she could hear.
She didn't answer.
"I know you're mad," I tried again, the exact same tactic I tried before, "But can you at least talk to the group, tell them why-"
"I didn't say no," she said. She blinked slowly, and the action seemed painful. When she inhaled, she struggled with every breath.
I gestured towards the table, "You can join us, Amanda's a-"
"But we have to talk alone," she said. Every word was an odyssey for her. She croaked like It was an endurance test to keep her heart beating.
I tried to look at her, tried to make sense of the woman I didn't recognize. She was an entirely different person that the plastic filled vixen who showed up just to taunt me.
"For a while," her strained voice started, "You did really love me, didn't you?"
I gave an uneasy nod. I kept trying to picture how she'd twist the knife. "I did," my voice said slowly, "And I never would have cheated on you, I-"
She held up her hand. It was a small action, but for a woman so sick and haggard, she may as well have lifted a boulder.
"Talk to me alone," she said, her voice final, "And if you did- If you were serious, you'll know where to find me."
I felt the same bristle as she started to fade away, and I couldn't stop my hand. "Sadie!" I shouted, gripping her wrist like a vice.
"Why can't you just talk to me?" I snapped, "Why can't you just tell me what's going on? What you're thinking?"
I had slowed her, but I didn't stop her. I could already see the far side of the restaurant through her form. She struggled to reach her hand out, and gave Amanda the smallest little point, "Not with her here."
And Sadie was gone.