"The coach had an appointment, so we have practice tomorrow instead."
"On a Saturday?"
"Unfortunately," Evan grimaced.
"Oh," I sighed. "I was hoping we could get my things tomorrow. Anna hired some guys to move the furniture out this weekend, so I need to pack up before they arrive."
"Is Rachel back?"
"I have no idea," I answered with a shake of my head. "I haven't heard from her, but I don't really expect to either. I'm hoping she's not."
"Do you want to go there this afternoon?"
A jolt shot through me just thinking about going back to the house. I knew we'd have to eventually, but I wasn't expecting it to be this afternoon. I thought I'd have more time to prepare.
"Okay," I answered, "let's do this," realizing there wasn't any way to prepare for it, no matter how much notice I had.
"You don't have to," Evan reassured me. Apparently my anxiety was evident. "Sara and I could go when she gets out of track practice. Besides, she said she wanted to help."
"No," I countered, trying to sound confident, "I can do it. I'll text her and tell her to meet us there when she gets out."
"Are you sure?" he confirmed again, eyeing me skeptically. "What if she's home?"
I didn't know how to tell him that it wasn't Rachel that made me dread going back to the house. It was the fear that there would still be blood on the floors. But the police didn't return to question me further upon searching the house, so I was fairly confident that Jonathan had cleaned it up and disposed of the broken coffee table. I had a feeling I'd see the blood even with my eyes closed.
"I can handle it," I assured him. Evan stood and offered me his hand. I took it and eased myself from the wicker chaise that was layered with pillows for my comfort. It didn't matter how many pillows it had, it didn't keep the pain at bay every time I had to breathe.
"I wonder how bad it's going to be," I thought out loud as we weaved through the back roads of Weslyn.
"What?" Evan asked with uncertainty.
"My room."
"How come you didn't go back with the police to see if anything was taken?"
"Because I knew there wasn't," I replied flatly, knowing the only thing he tried to take was hanging around my neck.
"Do you think he'll come back?" I could feel him watching for my reaction.
I shook my head and stared out the window, not wanting him to see the look on my face as I closed my eyes and tried to push away the bloody image that induced a shudder. What did we do? I mouthed to my reflection, resting my head against the glass, replaying Jonathan wiping away his prints on the car door. I wondered how detailed he had been when ridding the house of evidence.
I was so wrapped up in preparing myself to face the brutality; I really didn't give much thought to what it was going to be like to see my mother―if she was home. Her car was still in the driveway when we pulled in. But it had probably been there since I took her to the hospital. When we neared the house, music reverberated through the front door, confirming that she'd returned.
Evan stopped on the steps and turned to me. "Do you want to do this? We don't have to."
Despite the nausea that rolled in my stomach, I nodded. He eyed me warily, but didn't try to talk me out of it. Evan opened the screen door for me. I took a deep breath and walked into the house.
I didn't look for her. I continued up the stairs and Evan followed. I kept my eyes on each step and veered into my room without looking at the spot where his battered body had lain motionless. By the time Evan closed the door behind us, my heart was beating so hard I thought I might fall over.
We waited for her reaction. The music continued in the kitchen, allowing us to relax and breathe easier. I was just beginning to think we'd be able to leave without incident when I heard the door beneath my bedroom slam shut. She must have been out back. Evan stopped and looked toward me, awaiting my reaction. I shook my head with a shrug, trying to appear unaffected.
"Oh, Emma," Evan consoled under his breath.
I snapped back into the room and my mouth dropped open. "What the..."
It was completely torn apart. The mattress was pushed off the bed. The bureau drawers were dumped and tossed in a heap. The clothes in the closet were strewn across the floor. The only things left untouched were Evan's pictures on the cloth covered bulletin board and the stacks of clothes on the top shelf in the closet.
"My laptop's gone," I noticed, my voice deflated. I walked closer to the desk and discovered the hard drive on the floor beneath the desk. I eased myself under to pick it up. "At least I still have this. I guess I can always buy another laptop."