Innocence Read online

  “Punkin’—”

  “It’s okay, Dad. I promise. I needed to know.”

  Dad squeezed my knee. “Four years doesn’t change how your mom and I feel about you. Nothing could.” I gave him a weak smile. “London, your mom loves you. She may not remember who we are, but she loves us.”

  “I know, Dad. I know.”

  We lapsed into silence. The city seemed untouched as we drove through. Tears burned my eyes as I focused on anything but memories of the laughs, the dreams, the friendships. There was so much promise back in those days.

  Dancing had been my future.

  The world had made sense.

  Before I was able to shake it away, another memory assaulted me. One I hadn’t thought about since it happened.

  Charles was having a party at the lake. I was late since I was just getting back into town after a dance competition. Since Charles wasn’t able to leave while the party was in full swing, Millie picked me up.

  “Girl, you kicked ass. First place. I bet Juilliard is pleased since you just accepted the scholarship.”

  “They are. The head instructor was at the competition. She said she looked forward to instructing me this fall and I had beautiful lines.”

  Millie danced in her seat. “I’m so proud of you! We’re going to have so much fun living together during college. Except I’ll be getting fat while I’m sitting at a desk studying.”

  “I’ll drag you out for runs.”

  “Deal!”

  Millie was headed to nursing school near Juilliard. Healing people was Millie’s passion. Selfless to the core. It was beyond lucky we both got into our first school of choice and they were so close. Charles was attending school about an hour away which was good. We wouldn’t be far apart. We chatted about our new place we were renting. Mom was making curtains to spruce it up. The whole apartment was about the size of two medium-sized bedrooms. It was perfect.

  The car pulled up. Charles stood on the front porch with Rachel Graves watching him. She was never too far away from whatever we were doing. Always present. I hardly knew her.

  “There’s my beautiful girl.” Charles walked to me. I could tell he had been drinking. “Want something to celebrate?”

  He gave me a kiss. Hard liquor was the dominant smell and taste. “Just you.”

  “Good answer.” Turning to the crowd on the porch, he announced, “Isn’t my girl the most beautiful girl ever?” Charles was drunker than I thought. Nuzzling my ear, he said, “You’ll be forever mine, London.”

  Forever turned out to be not long at all.

  I shook my head to clear all the negativity from it as we left town. Millie and I rode our bikes all through here growing up. Charles and I were Homecoming Queen and King in the parade. In our senior class, we’d been voted most likely to succeed. Looking back, I thought we were happy. I still couldn’t see any warnings that there was something wrong with us.

  Nothing made sense.

  The city gave way to our dirt road. We lived on a small farm just outside of town. Dad made furniture and boarded horses. He’d grown up in Montana on a horse ranch with his parents who had passed when I was a child. I don’t remember much of them since I was five when they died in a car accident.

  The truck shifted to park and I looked at our white farmhouse with the silver tin roof. The memories were filled with love. The swing blew in the wind on the wraparound porch. Mom would tell me stories under the night sky out here while fireflies danced about.

  Charles—I refused to think of him right now and any memories of him here.

  The barn became my sole focus. “Is Sparkles in her stall?”

  “She’s waiting for you. Last weekend she practiced all her tricks for you.” My father gave me a warm look as I bounded out of the truck and made a beeline for the redwood barn. In the first stall stood my majestic black Quarter Horse. She was a gift from Mom and Dad for my tenth birthday.

  Sparkles stopped eating and looked at me. I closed the gap. “Hey, girl. I’m back.” Tossing her head, Sparkles whinnied. I touched her jaw and leaned my face against hers, the familiar soft fur a soothing balm. “I know I’ve been gone. I’m so sorry. I’m sorry for everything.” Tears rolled down my face. Sparkles nuzzled me. “I know, girl. I know. I missed you too.”

  “Well, isn’t this a sight for sore eyes.”

  I whipped around at the familiar voice of my best friend, Millie Craig. She was five feet, four inches of blonde hair, blue-eyed sass. Millie was the only friend who hadn’t abandoned me. When Charles left me, so did the majority of my friends. No one wanted to cross paths with the Graves’.

  Because of nursing school in New York, Millie was only able to see me when she came home which was for a couple of weeks in the summer. We wrote letters to each other every week to stay in touch.

  Millie walked up to me and engulfed me in a hug. “It’s good to have you back, London. It’s so good. I missed you.”

  “Missed you too—so much. What are you doing here?” I pulled back. Millie worked in New York City at a local hospital.

  She wagged her eyebrows. “In three days you are looking at the newest nurse at Northwest Medical in Winfield.”

  Excitement bubbled through me. My best friend was here. Close to me. “What? Are you serious?” Winfield was only about fifteen minutes from Guin and a smaller hospital. Millie had graduated early and then worked her way up at an exponential pace. “You loved New York City. Why didn’t you tell me?”

  “I didn’t want to jinx anything. With Momma being sick, it was time.” Recently Dorothy Craig was diagnosed with stage-two breast cancer. The chemo treatments were intense.

  I gave my friend another hug. “Let me know if you guys need anything. I’m here for you.”

  Dad walked in the barn with a grin on his face as Millie pulled back. Being home for only a few minutes showed me how much I isolated myself in prison. It hurt knowing what I caused myself to miss out on all this time. He put his arms around each of our shoulders. “Why don’t we go in the house? Verna made some of her famous lasagna for us.”

  An unladylike sniffle escaped. “I knew you made lasagna. Best welcome home meal a daughter could ask for.”

  Verna was a friend of the family who helped Dad out a lot since Mom was sick.

  Thinking of all the changes, I hoped I still fit in. Guilt assuaged me at the selfish thought. The Dorsey family no longer had a son because of me. My thoughts and emotions felt like a pendulum moving from one extreme to the other.

  Millie leaned forward. “I brought cookie ice cream for dessert.”

  “My favorite. You guys are spoiling me.”

  Millie and Dad chuckled.

  Shards of happiness beamed through the dark skies of my soul. A sickening feeling came over me. Did I deserve to be happy? I wasn’t sure.

  Prison, in some ways, was easier than being free. At least I knew I was paying for what I had done and not enjoying life. Four years for someone’s life seemed trivial.

  “THANKS FOR COMING, MILLIE.”

  We stood on the front porch, hugging as the stars lit up the night sky. “Of course, I’d be here, London. How are you doing?”

  Zipping her lightweight blue jacket, Millie watched me closely.

  I glanced back toward the kitchen where Dad insisted on cleaning up. “I’m okay. I feel out of place, but I’m trying. My feelings are all over the place. Feeling guilty and happy. I don’t know what I’m feeling.”

  “It takes time. I’m here for you. Did your dad tell you about Charles?”

  That was why I loved Millie. She always had my back. Though the news hurt, Millie knew it would be worse if I was told when I couldn’t process everything first. “Yeah, can we talk about that later? I’m exhausted.”

  Millie gave me an understanding look before gazing back out onto the sky. I kicked at a board on the front porch. “I was thinking about visiting Alec’s grave tomorrow. To say I’m sorry.” Millie was quiet . . . too quiet. Doubt crept into my mind ab
out going. “Do you think that’s a bad idea?”

  Millie leaned against the porch. “No, sweetie, I don’t. I can’t imagine what you’re going through. The adjustment. The guilt. It’s a lot.”

  I nodded, at a loss for words.

  “London, try to forgive yourself.”

  “I’m trying.”

  We stood there a few minutes when a yawn escaped. “We have forever now to catch up. I’ll let you rest and stop by tomorrow.”

  “Night, Millie.”

  Giving me a quick hug, Millie headed to her car. I watched the taillights disappear and then was bathed in the starry night sky. A shooting star swept across the sky as the wind rustled my hair. I refused to think of a wish. It was something my mother and I always did and hurt too much to do it without her.

  Maybe one day.

  Clattering from the house brought my attention back to Dad. So much had changed. Dad was now self-sufficient. Before, Mom took care of everything.

  I walked to the door and leaned against it as Dad put the last of the dishes in the dishwasher. The house still looked the same. He hummed to himself. The white daisy curtains brought the corners of my mouth up. Mom and I picked the fabric out one Saturday afternoon when we’d gone to town. The sewing lessons which followed weren’t so successful. Mom stayed patient with me the entire time. I missed those moments.

  Turning my way, Dad gave me a loving smile. “I can’t believe you’re here.”

  “Me either.”

  Another yawn slipped from me.

  “Let’s get some sleep. I’ll lock up.” Dad gave me a quick kiss. “Night, punkin’.”

  “Night, Dad.”

  I trudged up the stairs to my old bedroom. Nudging the door open, I peered inside after flipping on the light. The corkboard across the room was filled with pictures of my old life—mainly Charles and Millie.

  Dance trophies lined the shelf which ran a few feet under the ceiling. Dance shoes were neatly lined up in the closet.

  I walked farther into the room.

  The scarf Charles bought me from Italy lay on the back of the chair. The stuffed animal he’d given me was on the bed where I left it.

  My reflection caught in the mirror of my white-wood vanity. Dark hair like my father’s spilled over my shoulders. Haunted chestnut eyes watched me through my thin frame. A picture of me laughing with Charles’ hands wrapped my waist was a stark difference from what I saw now.

  The room was like a tomb.

  A stack of papers caught my attention. I swallowed hard and took a steadying breath as I recognized them as my scholarship renewal at Juilliard. Everywhere I looked, I couldn’t escape my past.

  I ran my fingers over a picture of the dance studio at Juilliard on the mirror. When the accident happened, it was my college summer break. As soon as my conviction was announced, my scholarship was pulled. The papers caught my attention again and I shoved them in a drawer. Quickly I changed into my soft, pink pajamas. Tomorrow, I’d box all the memories up. Start fresh. For now, the closet would keep everything out of sight—out of mind.

  The teddy bear Charles gave me for our one-month anniversary was the first to claim a spot in the closet. Dad knocked at the door as I pulled the covers over me. “Are you getting settled okay?”

  “I am. Thanks, Dad.” The familiar goodnight routine soothed the anxiety my walk down memory lane caused.

  Dad looked around the room and then back to me. “I wasn’t sure what you’d want to keep. We can box up some stuff tomorrow if you want.”

  “That sounds great. Love you.” Dad got me, he always had.

  “Love you, too.”

  As I closed my eyes, I took a deep breath. I survived my first partial day out. Sleep claimed me before long.

  “London, wakeup, sweetheart. London, I’m here.”

  Charles’ warm voice was like a caress. My eyes fluttered open, met by warm loving eyes.

  He sighed and released the tension in his shoulders. “Thank God, you pulled through.”

  “Pulled through what?” My voice came out hoarse. There was something under my nose. I touched the obstruction, wanting it removed. Charles stopped me. Was it an oxygen line? Was I in a hospital?

  Charles pressed his lips to mine. A sneer formed on his face as his eyes became evil. “You pulled through so you can pay for all you’ve done.”

  “What?” My heartbeat thudded in my ears. I tried to move. Concrete filled my limbs, keeping me immobile.

  Charles held a photo in front of my face. His breath smelled of alcohol. A boy lying unnatural-like underneath my left front car tire. It was terrible. My stomach lurched.

  He tossed it aside revealing a new image.

  A picture of me bloody from the crash. A bottle of alcohol in the passenger seat. Bile rose in my throat.

  A new image appeared.

  The mother of the boy knelt down at his body, crying. Make it stop! Make it stop!

  The images were gruesome. Uncontrollable sobs left my body. I never wanted this to happen. I was so sorry. So so sorry. I never meant for someone to get hurt.

  “This is all because of you, London. All your fault.” Charles spit in my face.

  I sat up gasping for air. My skin clammy. My room. I was in my room. A dream. It was just a dream. Desperate for light to banish the darkness, I searched for the lamp switch. A soft glow bathed the room as I heaved oxygen into my lungs.

  A dream. Only a dream.

  Pulling my knees to my chest, I worked on calming myself. Every time I had the dream, it always affected me like that.

  Through the court hearing, I had seen the images of the crime scene repeatedly. They would be forever burned into my mind. They lingered not far from my thoughts, waiting to torture me. It had been a while since a nightmare showcased them.

  Would I ever be free?

  I laid back down and pulled the covers over my head. Slowly, I counted each deep breath. My mind filled with soft grass swaying, the clouds moving, anything peaceful to erase the images.

  I’m so sorry, Alec. I’m so sorry. Please forgive me.

  STANDING AT THE GATE, A sea of gravestones spread before me. My hands shook. At the burial, the Dorsey family demanded I not be there. I understood and respected their wishes, but always felt the need to give my last respects.

  A car drove by, slowing down and then speeding up, causing my stomach to turn at the nasty look I received. I’m sure people already knew I was back. Guin was a small town. Everyone knew everything. It was almost archaic feeling at times. Growing up, Mom and Dad instilled in me to stay out of rumors. If I was supposed to know, the person involved would let me know. How true those words were. Hopefully in the time I was gone the town became more open-minded, so I could integrate myself back into society with minimal blow back.

  Part of me wished we had moved, but Mom loved the land and made us promise to never take her from it. Dad still held hope Mom would be able to come back to the farm eventually. I knew that was a pipe dream, but Dad stayed in Guin just in case.

  I forced myself to push open the gate while my stomach knotted again. Dad offered to come with me, but it was something I needed to do on my own. I chose to walk to the cemetery in order to get my thoughts in order since we only lived two miles away. Of course, he understood. Part of me wanted Dad to come with me. However, these were my transgressions to bear, not his. Alec deserved my undivided attention.

  The morning still held on to a slight chill from the colder than normal summer Alabama was experiencing. It wouldn’t matter if it was one-hundred degrees; I would be cold being at the gravesite. Guilt assuaged me. Carefully, I wound through the graves. Dad told me where Alec was laid to rest.

  An eerie calm came over the place. A hundred feet from my destination, I stopped to gather myself. My trial had been expedient and I was sentenced by the end of June. The lawyers were shocked at how quickly everything happened.

  I can do this. Alec deserves to hear how sorry I am.

  Unbidden, my feet
unwillingly moved closer. My stomach knotted. Because of me, a boy was here. The horridness of the situation still had a hard time connecting with my brain—that I actually was responsible.

  I stopped in front of the tombstone belonging to the nine-year-old boy who had died a little over four years ago.

  My hand drifted to my mouth as a sob broke free. I couldn’t stand as I collapsed at the foot of the grave. This was my fault. All my fault. Laying my hand at the foot of the grave, where the gravel outlined the perimeter, I poured my heart out. “I’m so sorry, Alec. I’m so sorry for the choices I made. I know sorry doesn’t bring you back, but I am. There’s not a day that goes by I don’t think of you. I wish I could change it all. I—I—I can’t remember what happened.” Another sob erupted. My eyes clenched tight. “I wish I could take it back.” More sobs. “Trade my life for yours.”

  He had been a boy full of life. A person with his whole future ahead of him. During the summers, I babysat him a few times. We would play fort in the backyard. Soldiers on the coffee table. Undercover spies in the house.

  And because of a choice I don’t remember . . . I took it all.

  Tears flowed freely. “I’m so sorry, Alec. So so sorry.”

  “What are you doing here?” I jerked around at the menacing voice. Alec’s mom, Farrah, stood there. The loss had aged the once vibrant woman. “You murderer! What are you doing here?”

  “I-I-I came to g-g-give my r-r-respects.”

  “Get out of here! You killed my son! You killed my son! MURDERER!” Farrah waved her hands, stomping toward me. “You don’t deserve to be here. Someone told me you were here. Get away from my boy! Stay away!”

  Abruptly, I stood not knowing what do. The anguish on Farrah’s face ripped through me. “I’m so sorry, Farrah. I wish it had been me.”

  “MURDERER!” Farrah marched up and slapped me. The sting lit the side of my face on fire. I stepped back, distancing myself as I cradled my cheek. “Don’t come back here! Never come back here! You don’t deserve to be okay after all you did.”