Chapter Text
November 8th, 2009
A week after her disappearance.
A day after she was found.
The tea had gone cold.
Its aroma wafted through the still air, strangely sour against the back of her tongue. The room smelled of it, but it was the scent of smoke that dominated her senses.
It had her gritting her teeth.
Across from her, Deputy Sheriff Wright tapped his knuckles against the table in a slow, measured pace. It was not quite music, but it grated her ears all the same. He didn’t meet her eyes, but she could feel him assessing her, tracing her, like he could sense the tremors she tried to hide.
Grey streaks peppered through his hair and down along his sideburns. His jaw was shadowed with a stubble, exhaustion darkening the hollows beneath his striking blue eyes.
His cup sat untouched.
His notepad laid between them, dark blue ink catching her attention with every indent he made. Each motion brought that same familiar scent of bitter smoke closer.
Regina licked her lips.
She wasn’t hungry, but something similar stirred her gut. She craved sweetness.
“You don’t remember?” he asked. His voice was low, as if he was telling her a secret.
“If I did then I would’ve told you.”
Silence stretched between them.
Her heartbeat felt louder than it should have and for a moment, she wondered if he could hear it. His presence pressed against her sides, like the weight of earth and mud covering her.
He nodded once, a deep crease forming between his brows. He flicked his gaze over to her mother.
“And you said she just showed up at your front door?”
Not exactly.
“Yes,” June said. Her glare was sharp, arms crossed. “No thanks to you or your department’s efforts.”
“Ma’am–”
“No, Mom! It’s fine!” Regina’s hand shot up. “Deputy Wright is trying to do his job. He’s just trying to… understand.”
He folded his arms over, mirroring June, but his eyes didn’t sway. He watched.
Waited.
“I remember being thrown out the car,” Regina said, the lie thick on her tongue. “Then… somehow I was home. I don’t want to–”
“Don’t?” His voice cut her words.
Regina’s eyes met his. “No.” Yes.
“I meant that I can’t, I can’t begin to describe it. It’s like I was a passenger in my own body. Things were happening to me while I…” Regina trailed off. But the memory rang differently, it was dark and wet, behind her mind’s eye. It was never the smell of gasoline, it wasn’t the reviving of an engine.
She could almost taste it on her tongue, the addictive flavor of iron.
“That must’ve been difficult for you,” he muttered, but there was a lilt in his tone.
“Yes.” The word left her lips easily. “Sometimes… bad things are hard to remember.”
Wright held her gaze, looking right through her. He leaned forward slightly, his shadow pooling across hers.
“Sweetheart,” he drawled, and she burned. “Memory’s strange. It fills in the gaps with what we wish happened instead of what did…” he trailed off. “Makes us believe we’ve forgotten when really, we're just not ready to say out loud.”
Regina’s frown deepened.
The room felt smaller. Tighter.
“So,” he continued, softer now, “If there’s anything you’re holding back… or something you’re afraid to say. It’ll come back, it always comes back.”
But some things shouldn’t.
The blues of his eyes seemed to brighten as if he’d heard her thoughts. “It’s just a matter of time but the truth finds its way.”
Her nails dug into her palms, but she barely felt a pinch. “It’s mostly a blur.”
His pen scraped the page. Each scratch nailed against her skull. Regina felt that acute sense of being restrained, she spun her wrist, tugging at nothing.
“But you mostly remember, don’t you?”
Regina saw red, gushing.
Deputy Wright placed his arms on the table, leaning, closing in on her. That bitter smell of smoke was choking her.
Regina opened her mouth, teeth aching–
But her mother's sharp voice cut in, confused. “What sort of witness statement is this?”
Regina’s gaze flickered to her mother. She let out a sob. It was practiced, easy, and that had her mother standing in rage.
“No!” June’s voice rose. “This is exactly why she shouldn’t remember it.”
Wright’s gaze lingered on Regina before it flickered to June. “I understand your concern, Mrs. George.” His voice was firm, almost tender, but his stare was detached. “But this is basic procedure and I’m following protocol.”
“Then I’m positive you’ve done all you can, Deputy Wright,” June stated. “She’s been through enough.”
Wright nodded. His eyes didn’t blink. He closed his notepad, tucking his pen inside it.
“I’m sure she has.”
June walked Deputy Wright out, her voice returning to a husk of its usual brightness. It was polished enough, high-pitched. The sort of sound that usually grated Regina’s nerves. The foyer echoed the low sound of their farewells, followed by the soft clink of a door closing.
The house calmed.
Regina sat still, back straight, listening to the distinct thrum of the walls as they pressed against her. It was a pulse, beckoning her out, somewhere she recognized by scent.
Wet mud, cold air. A warm body.
She wiped her face dry, tasting faint salt on her lips. The smell of smoke still lingered in the air but she didn’t mind its bitterness.
Her mother’s kitten heels clicked hurriedly through the corridors, pausing momentarily at the entrance of the living room. Her mother was jumpier, especially after Regina’s meltdown the day before. The clicks picked up again, softening as she rounded the corner, coming into view. June smiled, a bit too widely, her makeup cracking at the corners of her mouth. Regina didn’t return it, her lips remained pursed shut.
Regina knew what her mother was for a long time. June didn’t need a script, she was a natural. Her loyalty was the kind that guards, the kind that hides. Her mother wasn’t concerned with the truth, and Regina had learned just like she learned about numbers and colors.
It was instinctual.
Her mother was content playing the fool, it kept her marriage to her father intact. Regina didn’t fault her, it was natural to cling onto support especially when you were helpless.
Her mother was intelligent in a way no one expected. She just didn’t understand boundaries. She didn’t understand timing, and the sanctity of silence.
“You were so brave,” June said. She touched Regina’s arm, and Regina felt its warmth against her skin. June’s eyes searched hers, for something– anything, and when she found it, she looked away promptly.
June swallowed. “I just want what’s best for you.”
Regina almost sighed. “I know, Mom.”
June brushed a strand of hair from Regina’s face, her manicured fingers lingering. “You know you can tell me anything,” she murmured. “If you ever feel the need to.”
Regina’s gaze narrowed. “I told him the truth.”
Her mother shook her head. “Of course.”
Regina stared at her mother expectantly.
Her mother pulled back, eager to move on. “I just don’t understand why we have to do this. It seems totally ridiculous to play pretend and act like you're not home safe, but your father thinks he knows better. It’s already been-”
“A day,” Regina interrupted.
June shrugged. “Technically almost two. They’re planning another search part this weekend. Father Stokes is holding another church sermon–”
“They prayed after I got hit by a bus,” Regina replied. “It didn’t stop the bus from hitting me.”
Her mother’s frown deepened, her exhaustion finally showing through the mask. “I just meant… people care for you.”
Regina finally smiled, distinct and sharp. “Sure they do.”
June looked around the room, looking anywhere but directly at Regina. She toyed with her wedding ring. “Your friends came by. Gretchen first.”
“She would.” Regina wasn’t surprised. Gretchen used to worship her. They weren’t friends anymore but that notion was lost on her mother. She barely listened to what she didn’t want to hear.
“She’s put on a little bit of weight,” June added absentmindedly. “I didn’t want to say anything.”
Regina’s lips twitched upwards. “She’s probably been stress-eating or something.”
Her mother chuckled, a frail sound leaving her lips. “That’s what I was thinking.”
June continued talking, mentioning everything Regina had missed since she had been gone. It was easier to pretend that the time lost was just time Regina spent on her university campus. Bringing up ghosts to Regina would make things feel more normal; but she buried away those memories, alongside the people attached to them. They were barely anything in her eyes, barely even human.
Still, her mother talked about how they all made sure to visit and pay their respects, keen on probably pretending she was already dead. Cady. Aaron. Karen. Her mother’s words went in one ear and out the other–
“Rodrick Heffley’s mother passed by,” June said.
Regina’s head lifted. The shift was subtle, but her mother took immediate notice.
“Susan Heffley, you remember her, right?” June asked. Regina didn’t reply, placing a hand under her chin and waiting.
Her mother took the hint. “Well, she wrote about your disappearance in the local newspaper. Susan was the first one to take it seriously. She mentioned that her son seemed really messed up about it and that’s how–”
“He is?”
June paused, nodding slowly. “I didn’t even know you two knew each other.”
Regina stood up, pushing her chair back in slowly. “We don’t.”
“Makes sense.” June said. “Well, his band finally got their big break.”
Low Shoulder.
Time seemed to slow. The smell of rot crowded her. It thickened the air around her until she felt herself brimming with its stench. She felt the same thrum echo, beating it in her veins, down her bones, and even the space between her teeth.
For a second, she didn’t move, afraid that sudden movements might land her hard on her knees. Regina bit the inside of her cheek, hard enough to taste blood.
Her mother kept blabbering on. “I heard it again this morning on the radio. Susan didn’t–”
“I heard it,” Regina cut in, voice flat. “Drop it.”
June blinked, taken aback. “Oh.”
Regina felt like she was suffocating. She shut her bedroom door, locking it.
The click echoed through the walls.
She crossed the room, flicking her radio on. It buzzed through a fog of static before it settled on 99.8. The announcer’s voice was familiar and warm, introducing a song she knew pretty well: Deftones’ Be Quiet and Drive.
He loved this song.
The opening guitar chords cut through, silencing most of her thoughts. She sat against her headboard, propping her laptop on her lap, watching the screen blink on.
Her name flooded every corner of her feed on Facebook. Notifications piling up.
Her smiling face stared back at her. Practiced. Glossy. Her lips were pinked just right and her hair was ironed flat.
Perfect.
She thought she looked just okay.
She had better pictures. This wasn’t the one she would’ve picked to be the banner of her disappearance.
She scrolled.
People were almost happy posting about her. It was all performative grief, with nobody’s trying to get sympathy likes. Most of them talked about her in the past tense, as if she had already died.
But dead people don’t come back.
Then she hit a page she hadn’t expected. A profile she’d thought she blocked.
Janis Ian.
Regina clicked.
Her latest post popped up. No hashtags. No theatrics. Just a simple message.
We might’ve not always gotten along, but there was a time where things were easy. I hope you’re safe.
- Janis
Janis had attached a picture of the two of them as children, barefoot in Regina’s backyard. They looked free, grinning in a way that felt impossibly faraway.
Regina stared for a moment.
She liked the post.
It was past six and she had missed lunch.
Her mother was worried about her, she could feel it with the quiet rustling behind her locked door. June didn’t knock, but she hovered, hand too hesitant to commit to a confrontation with her eldest daughter.
Her mother was wondering why she hadn’t eaten.
Regina laid in bed, staring up at the wall.
It wasn’t because she didn’t want to eat.
“Honey–” her mother called, voice muffled.
Regina sighed. She got up and unlocked the door as her mother was about to knock again.
“What?”
“You’re on a diet?” June asked, hesitant.
“Everything.”
June hummed. “Is it Cosmo?”
Regina looked at her mother, unimpressed. “What do you want?” she asked, bluntly.
June looked away. “I made you your favorite…”
Cheese Fries.
Regina nodded, unfazed.
Her mother stepped back. “Kylie’s downstairs eating if you want to join her.”
Regina sighed, numb. “Alright, just give me a minute to get ready.”
June’s expression brightened, but Regina stared hollowly at the space her mother had occupied.