Archive of Our Own

Three minutes.

Three minutes since Max Hasting’s verdict.

Pip had been anxiously awaiting the trial all day, wringing her hands or running her fingers through her dark brown hair. The ends are still slightly lighter, bleached from the sun. A familiar ache fills her chest as she fleetingly thinks of the person who used to run his fingers through them, declaring she had been kissed by rays of light.

She brushes it off. It had been for the good of them both, but mostly him.

Now, seated on her couch with a soft blanket hastily purchased at the beginning of her stay at Columbia University, she watches the small, beaten up TV in her dorm with wide eyes. The channel has since switched after the verdict, but she’s still stuck on that one wonderful, beautiful word.

Guilty.

Guilty. Guilty! The news she had been waiting for for one year, ten months, and twenty-seven days. None of those who had helped her are in danger of having their lives upended. Not Cara, not Connor, not Jamie, not her mom, not her dad, not Josh.

And not—

That thought is cut short as Pip’s phone pings with an incoming text. Her chest still tight with anticipation, she lifts it from beside her, pressing her thumb to the home button to check who it’s from. Perhaps it’s Lily, checking if she’s still good for study group on Friday.

The sender’s name causes her heart to stop in her chest. The message itself makes her freeze, unable to move her thumbs to reply back for what feels like centuries.

Ravi: Hey Sarge, remember me?

Pip’s hands shake. That nickname. Oh, that nickname. She wants to cry and laugh all at once, her body filling with a wild hope that makes her feel like she can fly.

Ravi. Ravi. Her wonderful Ravi. Sure, he had been living in her head ever since she left, but nothing can compare to the real thing. The remnants of his warm voice is but a thing she used to keep her going when she was in her darkest moments.

The memory comes to her unwarranted. The aching, hollow loneliness that fills her chest some nights when she remembers Fairview. It often comes in waves, and though it’s not constant, it’s suffocating when it does occur. Sometimes she can barely think through the haze of missing her friends, her family, and Barney. Sometimes she’ll lie curled up in a ball underneath her sheets, wishing they would smother her. Sometimes she stands in the shower until she can’t feel the scalding water running down her back.

Those nights, when she can’t even find relief in being alive, she talks to them in her head.

Mostly Ravi, since he always knew what to say when her old episodes occurred. However, Cara, Connor, and her family frequently make appearances. Even Jamie Reynolds and Nat Da Silva occasionally flit through her imagination. She wonders if they’re still together, wonders how they’re doing.

Her fingers hover over the text, an odd feeling of fear surging up into her throat. It’s been six hundred and ninety-four days since they last spoke to each other. What if he doesn’t want her anymore? What if he’s decided to move on with his life after all? But then, why would he be texting her, so soon after the verdict? Is it possible that he’d been waiting just as anxiously as her in front of his own TV, waiting until that one word was spoken to reconnect with her?

Well, it’s Ravi Singh. Of course it’s possible.

She swallows down the lump in her throat, willing herself not to cry. With trembling hands, she types out a response.

Pip: Hey Ravi. Of course I do.

A tense pause, until three dots appear on her screen. She exhales a sigh of relief, holding her phone so tightly her knuckles turn white.

Ravi: You saw the verdict???

Of course I did, she wants to say. Of course I saw the verdict. I was sitting in front of the TV all day, praying that I get my life back, praying that that piece of shit gets tossed behind bars where he belongs, praying that all of our work wasn’t in vain.

Of course, she doesn’t type any of that. That would likely be too much after a year, seven months, and twenty-eight days.

Pip: I did.

She leaves it at that, unsure what else she could say. Ravi is the one who texted her, after all. She figures she’ll let him decide how to proceed. Her heart thunders in her chest, her palms slick with sweat and her head spinning.

How did she become this much of a mess?

Ravi: i’m not going to beat around the bush, lol. we both know I’ve never been subtle…can we meet up for coffee or something soon?? probably once you’re home for the summer, obv

Pip had been expecting this, but she feels a wave of emotion wash over her anyway. Seeing Ravi. The thought almost feels impossible after so long. Oddly, she feels nervous. She shouldn’t. It’s Ravi. But that tiny, anxious voice that’s been present in the back of her head since leaving for Columbia reminds her that she’s changed since they last saw each other. He’s probably changed too. Hell, even before she became a murderer, she’d changed.

Pip: Sure. I’m just reaching the end of my exams. I get back on June 5th. We can meet sometime after that?

The text looks much too casual to her own eyes, as if she hasn’t been thinking of him every day since they stopped talking. However, she knows casual is the way to go. She can’t collapse crying at his feet when she was the one who made this decision.

Her heart twists painfully as she remembers the sound of his sobs echoing through the trees, the last I love you spilling past his lips in an odd, broken sound. No, Pip can’t pretend that this isn’t her fault.

Everything is her fault.

Ravi: Absolutely :)

A pause.

Ravi: is it okay if I keep texting you until then??

Pip can almost hear the shy, nervous tone in his voice through the phone. Her teeth worry her lower lip, and she tilts her head forward, her hair falling around her face. It couldn’t hurt to say yes. Perhaps if they texted a little more, it would be less jarring when they met once again.

Pip: Sure (:

Pip adds the smiley face, but a sense of dread rather than joy fills her chest. She doesn’t know what it will be like, to be back. She’d stayed at Lily’s house the summer before, using the excuse that she had found a job to stop her parents from asking her when she would come home. Christmases and Thanksgivings missed for the same reasons, or for the excuse of no available flights. This summer, however, she’ll be able to go back to Fairview. The voices inside her head will be outside it, this time.

The thought leaves her stomach churning unpleasantly.

~

Throughout the rest of the week, Pip is usually too focused on her exams to say much to Ravi. He seems to feel the same way, as they don’t fall right back into their old rhythm. Pip was expecting that. Though she’s still skeptical about the possibility of their relationship resuming, a small bud of optimism is slowly blooming in her mind. She’ll be back in Fairview. She’ll see her family and her best friends again.

She’s sitting in one of her last lectures when this thought flits through her mind for the hundredth time that day. She wonders how Cara is doing. Her and Steph must still be together. They hadn’t been going out long when Pip left.

Everybody will be there. Everyone she left behind for their own safety. Everyone except…

Barney.

Her vision blurs as she recalls his sweet face on that last afternoon. Kidnapped by Becca Bell, killed by Jason Bell to punish his own daughter. Of course Jason Bell would kill a dog. He’d murdered five girls and nearly a sixth; a dog would be nothing to him.

All at once, images Pip had been trying so hard to suppress come rushing back. Duct tape, a dark, dank storage room, the overwhelming feeling of I’m going to die I’m going to die I’m going to die. The moment her imaginary conversations had started, bound to that shelf and unsure of her fate. Stanley Forbes, torn to bits with bullet holes through him. Stanley Forbes, bleeding out in front of Pip, Jason Bell’s undone head, the hammer clutched between her bloodied fingers—

“Pippa?” asks Lily beside her. Pip startles, glancing over at her friend. She tucks a sheet of dark brown hair behind her ear, honey-coloured eyes fixed on Pip’s expression. “Are you alright? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

Pip touches the side of her face, a chill running through her. She can’t quite shake the images just yet, but nods anyway.

“I’m fine, Lily. Thanks for checking.”

“Of course.” Lily gives her a small smile. “Let me know if you need anything, alright? If you need a break from the stress of exams or just…something to distract you.”

Pip bunches the fabric of her sweater in her hand, offering what she hopes is a convincing smile.

“I will.” Though, she knows that’s unlikely. As much as she likes Lily, she would never truly know Pip. Nobody could.

Except for Ravi, her mind whispers. Yes, Nat, Jamie, Cara, Connor, and Naomi had an idea of what had gone down that night, but Ravi had been the one to find her at the scene of the crime. Ravi had helped her clean the evidence, making it look like she hadn’t been present at the murder of Jason Bell.

Only Ravi knows the extent of what she’s capable of.

Pip shakes herself once more, turning her eyes back to the lecturer in front of her.

After that lecture, Pip makes her way across campus for her final exam. She manages to finish it much earlier than a few of her classmates, though she almost wishes it had taken longer, so she doesn’t have to think about what’s awaiting her in a week.

As she makes her way back to her dorm to pack, her phone pings.

Ravi: hey!! you said you had an exam today, right?? how did that go????

Pip: It went well, I think. A little stressful, but there’s not much I can do about it now.

Ravi: knowing you, you probably aced it, and you’re overthinking things :)

Pip smiles slightly. Ravi is the only person she’s texted since the verdict. She knows the others are respectfully keeping their distance, but she can’t work up the courage to message any of them directly.

That reminds her: she’ll have to tell her parents she’s coming home for summer break.

As she enters her dorm, she sits down on her bed, the mattress sinking under her weight. Goosebumps prickle the back of her neck as she opens up the group thread with her mom and dad.

Pip: Hey guys. I wanted to let you know I’m coming home for the summer break. No pressure to make a big deal out of it, but I didn’t want to show up unannounced.

Mom: Really? That’s wonderful! We’ve missed you so much! So has Cara. She says you must be busy since you barely answer her texts anymore.

A stab of guilt.

Dad: That’s great, Pickle. Josh misses you. We can come pick you up from the airport, if you like?

Pip pauses. She doesn’t know if she’s quite ready to face the music so soon, but her family will wonder why she’s declining. Besides, it might be nice to have something familiar.

Pip: Sure, Dad. Thanks.

Dad: No problem! Love you, Pickle!

Pip aches all over. She knows she should be happy to be seeing her family again, to return to her hometown. She just can’t shake the feeling of disquiet that’s been haunting her since the verdict was announced. How can she go back and pretend that she was distant because of how far away she was? Everyone will notice how much she’s changed, won’t they? How she startles at small sounds, spaces out in opportune places, drifts in and out of an uneasy sleep. She won’t be able to tell them why. She can never talk about what happened with Jason Bell, because people will know. They’ll know it’s her, even though a rapist is behind bars. Even though the case makes so much sense it would feel like breaking a bone to question that.

She bites at her fingernails. It’s fine, she tells herself, It’s all fine. I can pretend I’m stressed out because of school. Nobody will question it. Her teeth continue to gnaw at her nails, her mind drifting.

Ravi. Cara. Naomi. Connor. Jamie. Nat. Becca. Andie. Sal. Stanley Forbes. All people who had their lives upended because of the actions of another person. How much violence would it take for people to truly heal? How many people’s worlds would be turned upside-down before evil was stopped for good?

A part of Pip knows evil will never be stopped for good. There will always be people who hurt, who kill, who do bad things. She knows that if she hadn’t murdered Jason Bell that night, he would have found her again, and made sure the job was finished. He would have found more girls to hurt, more families to break. Killing him was the right thing.

She just can’t rationalize that, when everything feels awful.

A sharp sting startles her out of her trance, and she looks down to realize she’s bitten too far, and the tips of her fingers are bleeding.

Damnit. She stands with shaking legs and shuffles towards the bathroom in a thoughtless daze. The water from the tap is cool, washing away the sticky red blood that leaks out of where she’d gnawed on her fingernails. She didn’t start doing that until after she left Fairview. She hadn’t had much time to think after everything, as she was too busy covering her tracks and preparing for Columbia. It was only during the first quiet night in her new dorm when she broke down and chewed her nails until they were mangled and bloody. She had to clip them far too short past her fingertips, lest the sharp edges slice her skin by accident. She’s tried everything from gloves to foul-tasting nail polish to stop chewing them, but she can’t seem to snap herself out of it when she starts.

When she manages to clear most of the blood, she trims her abused nails as cleanly as she can, then wraps each finger in band-aids. It won’t hold her off for long, but maybe it will do the job long enough that her parents don’t ask about it.

Though she should be feeling relieved and happy to be seeing her family and friends in less than a week, she tosses and turns with anxiety. What if none of them want to be around her anymore? What if she drives them away once again? What if they resent her for doing so in the first place?

In the end, Pip ends up taking melatonin and drifts into a shallow sleep around four am. She knows she shouldn’t be relying so heavily on medication to sleep, but she’s tried everything else. Nothing seems to help. She remembers when she was buying Xanax from Luke Eaton; that always helped, but after the events of the year prior, she stays far away from Xanax. Besides, she knows she’ll get expelled if she’s caught with them, and that’s a much more dire option than simply staying awake night after night.

After putting Elliot Ward in jail, Pip had already changed. She hadn’t realized it until much later, but it wasn’t Stanley Forbes or Jason Bell that had changed her. She’d gotten fucked up long before that. Perhaps it was the shock of knowing that someone close to you committed atrocities you could never imagine them doing, but she had been drawn to crime after that. Brutal murders, sick and twisted cold cases, the very worst of humankind. The shadow-drenched corners of the world where only those with the cobweb ridden, shrivelled-to-a-husk hearts resided. Perhaps she had been searching to see just how much evil there was, how much could be dispelled. Perhaps she was searching for something to disprove her theory. Either way, it had led her to Stanley, and eventually to Jason Bell. The DT Killer and South Shore Stalker.

Sometimes her misfortune feels inevitable. Fairview had been full of misfortune. How unlucky was it that a ruthless killer had resided there? How unlucky was it that Andie Bell had destroyed herself all while trying to escape him? How unlucky was it that Sal and the Singhs had been drawn into the entire mess? Everything led to more and more loss, and Pip was just one victim in a string of many.

Sometimes Pip feels like she’ll never heal.

~

Pip departs for the airport on June fifth at five am. Lily offers to drive her, and she accepts, too tired to take a taxi. She’s quiet most of the drive, though Lily tries to prod her into light conversation once or twice.

“You know, I don’t think I’ve ever heard you talk about your family,” she muses, switching lanes to pass a particularly slow van. “What are they like?”

“Normal,” Pip replies, chin propped in her hand and eyes fixed outside the window. “I have a half-brother. Josh. He’s…eleven now, actually.” Her heart twists in her chest at the thought of the birthday she missed.

“Ah, that’s awesome,” Lily says with a bright smile, unaware of the tears pricking at the corners of Pip’s eyes. “I’m an only child, though I would have loved to have a younger sibling. Maybe my parents would let up on me a bit if I did.”

Pip laughs a little, for Lily’s benefit, and that seems to satisfy her. She’s silent for the rest of the drive, and Pip stews in her thoughts. They’re a repetitive storm of they’ll know they’ll know they’ll know and what if they don’t love me anymore what if they don’t want to see me again what if everything changed?

It’s getting quite tiring, being an inhabitant of her own mind.

When they park outside of the automatic doors to the airport, Lily gives Pip a long, tight hug, dark hair tickling Pip’s nose. Pip, surprising herself, returns it, exhaling a breath against Lily’s shoulder. She realizes she’s been too busy retreating in on herself for most of her university career so far, and hasn’t properly appreciated Lily’s company. She’d been a steady friend for Pip ever since they met, and Pip feels a twist in her chest when she remembers that she’s never shown her proper appreciation.

“Thank you,” she says earnestly when Lily pulls away.

“Ah, of course, love.” Lily pats her cheek, and Pip shakes her head affectionately.

“I’m serious, Lily. Thank you for everything. Not just for driving me to the airport brutally early in the morning.”

“You’re welcome.” Lily’s smile softens, and she takes Pip’s hand to give it a squeeze. “I can tell you’re nervous about seeing your family and all. By how tight your shoulders are, I know there’s some history there, though I don’t know what it is. Don’t let it bother you. Anyone can reconcile.”

“Maybe,” Pip says, a sigh slipping out of her. “I’ll try.”

“That’s my girl.” Lily gives her one last hug before returning to the driver’s seat of her car. With her luggage at her feet, Pip waves her off. She waits until her friend’s car disappears around the corner, then lugs her belongings through the crowded airport and to her gate. She doesn’t bother with breakfast, knowing she has something in her backpack to eat if she does get hungry.

It doesn’t take her too long to get through security—at least she’s not travelling internationally—and she manages to make it to her gate with an hour and a half to spare. There are no empty seats, so she reluctantly sits on the floor with her sweater underneath her ass to protect her from potential germs.

At least there’s an outlet here, she thinks, plugging her charger into the wall and connecting her phone. It’s still at eighty percent, but every bit of charge counts.

The flight isn’t even that long, she reminds herself, tugging on her hair. She nearly goes to bite her fingernails, but the band-aids stop her. She huffs in frustration, dropping her arm to her side and banging the back of her head against the wall. An elderly woman beside her squints critically, but Pip glares at her until she turns away, sniffing haughtily.

At least that’s one thing that hasn’t changed. Pip was always rather adept at glaring at people.

As the staticky voices of airport employees warble throughout the air, she unzips her backpack and pulls out a copy of And Then There Were None by Agatha Christie. Despite the fact that it’s one of her most popular books, Pip hasn’t opened it yet. She’s read most of her other works, but for some reason, she hadn’t picked up the one with the most sales worldwide. She begins on chapter three, after dinner has just been served.

She manages to make it to the end of chapter four, but she has to close the book when Anthony Marston gets poisoned. She knew a few details about it—the book has been out for eighty-five years after all—but she didn’t predict the way her stomach turns over as his life flickers out.

Murder mysteries used to be easy reads. She could never imagine anything like that happening in real life, so it didn’t bother her in the least. However, since…everything…she can’t seem to stomach the thought of death, no matter how fictional.

She slides her bookmark in between the pages and carefully tucks it back into her bag. Maybe she’ll be able to pick it up again soon, but today is not that day.

The rest of the wait is spent twiddling her thumbs, and when they finally begin calling to board, she jumps up eagerly. What an odd sight she must be, a tired university student dragging around a backpack big enough to outweigh her, but she doesn’t care much if anyone stares. They could be staring at her for reasons much different than an excess of luggage, and she much prefers the luggage over the alternative.

Her brain goes on autopilot as they begin calling people forward, and she only regains consciousness once she slumps in her seat with her backpack at her feet. She’s by the window, and there’s a mother and a toddler beside her. The child seems quiet, but even if she wasn’t, Pip has headphones.

Headphones.

The memories of Jason Bell burst into her memory, and she leans down and puts her head between her knees to quash the oncoming wave of nausea. Her vision blurs, saliva pooling at the back of her throat.

She had earbuds before, but they broke after someone sat on them during a rather energetic study group. She meant to buy new ones, but she’d been so busy with final exams she’d forgotten. It’s not the same headphones; she threw those out as soon as she got to Columbia. But even the memory of Jason Bell taking them out of her bag while she was tied up in that bad, bad place makes her sick.

“Excuse me?”

A little finger taps Pip’s shoulder, and she looks up to see the girl staring at her with wide brown eyes. She can’t be more than four years old, but her gaze is brimming with concern for Pip. Pip gives her a weak smile, sitting back up and exhaling a breath.

“What is it?” she asks wearily.

“Are you okay, Miss?” She tilts her head, little red curls tucked close to her ears. “You look like you’re gonna throw up.”

“I’ll be fine,” Pip reassures her. The mother then gets her attention, and Pip is left to stare out the window at the soft morning sun.

Watery rays struggle to shine through the dreary gray clouds, glinting off the windows of the airport. A light drizzle had begun since Lily had dropped Pip off. Pip wonders if the sun ever feels like giving up on days like this. She wonders why it shines at all, if the clouds cover it up anyway.

The vibration of her phone distracts her, and she picks it up to check the notification.

Ravi: You’re taking your flight this morning, right?

Pip: Yup. Just boarded. Waiting to taxi down the runway.

Ravi: Glad I caught you before your phone had to go on airplane mode :) Good luck on the flight!!

Pip: It’s an hour long flight. I’m not too worried.

Ravi: Well, I had to check. I’d be a bad friend if I didn’t.

Friend. A lump climbs the walls of Pip’s throat as she processes the word, and she exhales a breath. She knows Ravi is just trying to give her space. They’re still broken up. It would be unfair of her to assume they would jump right back in. And Ravi, the sweetheart that he is, probably doesn’t want to rush her.

Pip: Well, I have to put my phone on airplane mode now, but I’ll text you when I land?

Ravi: For sure! Make sure to steal some snacks!

Pip huffs out a quiet laugh, then switches her phone to airplane mode and shoves it back in the pocket of her shorts. She waits for the safety demonstration to be over before pulling her headphones over her ears and valiantly blocking the memories that come with them.

She doesn’t pick up And Then There Were None again, but she manages to watch a few episodes of some sitcom. The flight is only an hour long, so she doesn’t have to sit through too much canned laughter before the plane descends in Connecticut.

Deplaning is a blur as she grabs her suitcase from the overhead bin and shuffles in a line out to her gate. Her stomach flips over and over, gradually shriveling up as she retrieves her other suitcase from baggage claim and makes her way to the exit. She tries multiple times to chew on her nails, but the band-aids are—surprisingly—still holding up.

When she exits, she scans the crowd for her parents. Her dad is pretty easy to spot, since he towers above most of the people waiting for relatives. He waves and shouts, “Pickle!” causing Pip to blush bright red.

With her head down, she makes her way over to her family. Josh nearly trips as he rushes towards her, wrapping his lanky arms around her middle. Tears sting the corners of her eyes as she hugs him back, burying her face in his hair. He’s taller than she remembers, the top of his head at her chin.

Her mom and her dad soon join the hug, creating a circle of warmth that she can’t help but melt into. Her eyes close, and a few hot tears slide down her cheeks. She feels her arms trembling, but she doesn’t pull away. It’s been too long since she saw her family.

It was for their own good, she reminds herself, though it’s difficult to maintain that thought when she hears her mom sniffling beside her. She avoids looking at each member of her family, as all of their eyes have grown watery—even Josh’s, who usually resents any show of emotion towards her.

“How’s Columbia?” asks Dad when they finally separate. Pip wipes her eyes, readjusting the weight of her backpack on her shoulder.

“Good,” she says slowly. “Classes are good. I have a few friends, and we have a study group that meets up every Friday.”

“There’s the Pickle I know.” Pip’s dad ruffles her hair, and she swats his hand away with a laugh, the sound bubbling up warmly in her chest, unfamiliar and almost foreign. It wasn’t that she didn’t laugh at Columbia; it just felt more difficult. It took a lot to get her to even chuckle. This laughter comes surprisingly easily.

“None of us felt like cooking tonight, so we ordered pizza,” says Pip’s mom, kissing her temple. “I hope that’s alright.”

“That’s more than alright.” Pip lets herself smile, squeezing Josh to her side. “You’re so tall.” Josh only grunts and moves away from her, though he’s unable to hide the delighted smile on his face.

“We also invited Cara and Naomi.” Her mom’s brows knit together. “Your dad wanted it to be a surprise, but I didn’t want to dump this all on you as soon as you got home. Especially since you’ve been gone for so long.”

Pip wants to cry all over again.

“That’s alright,” she manages, ducking her head, catching sight of the band-aids on her fingers. “It’ll be nice to see them again.”

“They’ve missed you,” her mom adds, unknowingly making the knife twist deeper.

“I’ve missed them too,” she says truthfully. “Are Cara and Steph still together?”

“As far as I know.”

After a moment of silence, her dad gathers them all into a hug again. Josh squawks, and her mom laughs. Pip only smiles.

I’m home.

~

“Pip!” Cara squeals as soon the door opens, throwing her arms around Pip. Pip hugs her back tightly, burying her head in her shoulder. Tears threaten to spill down her cheeks, and she lets just a few slip out onto Cara’s shirt.

“Oh, god, it’s been forever!” Cara pulls back, hands on Pip’s shoulders and eyes searching her face. There’s something in their depths, a silent question Pip knows Cara has been wondering about since she left. Pip only shakes her head. Not now.

“Hi Pip,” says Naomi, voice softer. There’s a moment of hesitation before she folds her into a warm hug. Pip hugs her back, squeezing her tight.

“Hi Naomi.”

“Come, come, let’s eat.” Her mom ushers all three of them (and Josh, who was trying to wriggle in for a group hug) into the kitchen. On the dining table sits way too much pizza for six people. Pip counts six boxes, haphazardly stacked on top of one another.

“I splurged,” Pip’s dad says guiltily. “I figured you’d be hungry after your flight. And it’s been forever since we all had dinner together. I remember when we used to go over to—” He cuts himself off suddenly, throwing a wary glance towards Cara and Naomi. Pip knows that he’s thinking of the dinners they used to have with Elliot Ward, when Pip, Cara, and Naomi were younger. Before Andie Bell went missing and Elliot Ward murdered Sal Singh.

The tension in the air thickens. Then Cara collapses onto a chair and announces, “God, I’m starving. What have you got?”

Just like that, the silence breaks. Victor and Naomi begin a conversation about Naomi’s new job at Fairview Mail. Cara yanks Pip into the chair next to her, their knees knocking together. Josh asks Mom if he can have four pieces of pizza, which she concedes to. Usually she wouldn’t let him eat that much, but they do have a lot of pizza.

“Have you seen season four of Stranger Things?” Cara nudges her elbow against Pip’s ribs. “It was so crazy. So many plot twists.”

“Oh. I haven’t.” Pip blinks as Naomi reaches over and sets a slice of pepperoni and a slice of cheese on her plate. “Haven’t got the time.” She avoids confessing that she felt homesick every time she saw something that reminded her of Cara, including Stranger Things.

“We should binge it while you’re here.” Her face cracks into a grin. “I’m so excited.”

Pip almost protests—out of habit—but then remembers the verdict. Max is in jail, found guilty of Jason Bell’s death. Nobody will be in danger if they communicate with her. She can do stuff like that again; watch shows with Cara and go to the grocery store with her family. Hawkins won’t suspect her anymore, even if that untouched trail lives forever in the back of his mind.

A lump grows in her throat. She ducks her head and rips a chunk of pizza off with her teeth, even though she’s not even really that hungry.

“Sure,” she manages, offering Cara a wobbly smile. Concern flashes across her best friend’s face, but she conceals it before snatching another slice of Hawaiian.

The night is filled with laughter and a familiar warmth that fills Pip’s chest like the balmy air of summer. She doesn’t talk much, but Cara—to no one’s surprise—talks enough for the both of them. At some point, her hand lands on Pip’s, and she curls their fingers together. Her eyes find the band-aids with a questioning look, but Pip pretends not to see and just squeezes Cara’s hand tighter.

“Are you going to university?” Pip inquires quietly as they’re all gathered in the living room. Cara, ever the velcro friend, is pressed into Pip’s side on the sofa, their fingers still intertwined. She nods, a smile growing on her face.

“Yup. Steph and I went to Thailand. And Australia. I’m going to UConn in the fall.” Her head rests against Pip’s shoulder, arms linking. “I should show you some of the pictures from the trip soon.”

“Still working at Jackie’s?” Pip feels her lips tilt up into a smile.

“Yeah.” An amused snort escapes her. “She’s working me to the bone. Con still orders his basic white bitch drinks.”

“How is Connor?” Pip shifts her leg, thigh pressing to Cara’s. “With…everything.”

“He’s good, I think.” Cara huffs out a laugh. “He’s taking after Jamie, though. He’s not sure what he wants to go to university for, so he’s dragging it out. Arthur seems to be going softer on him, though, after everything that happened with Jamie.”

A twist in her stomach. That pit from two years before still makes an appearance, especially on particularly bad days, but it doesn’t lie dormant within her anymore. The anger doesn’t live in the back of her mind, volatile and ready to explode at any moment.

Blood on her palms. No, it’s just Cara, thumb rubbing across the heel of her hand.

“Are Jamie and Nat still together?” Affection bursts in her chest at the thought of Nat Da Silva. Everything she’d done for Pip on that fateful night, everything she’d done for her before that, and the cycle that drew them together.

“They are! They actually moved in together.” Cara pulls a face, her features scrunching together. “Though they’re even more insufferable now.”

“I’m sure they are.” Pip smiles and closes her eyes.

Free. Safe.

Around ten pm, Naomi informs them that she has work in the morning and that they’d better head home. Both her and Cara trap Pip in a long hug, filled with things left unsaid. Pip’s mom and dad go to sleep soon after that, exhausted from the day’s events.

Pip’s stomach turns at the thought of trying to sleep. This was the house where she’d erased the evidence of her murder, the house that Jason Bell had watched for weeks. How is she supposed to sleep?

But she can’t say any of that to her parents. So she hugs them goodnight and curls up in her old bed, eyes wide and fixed on the window.

He’s dead, she tries to remind herself as the hours slowly tick by. He’s gone. I killed him.

Despite that reminder, every shadow causes her heart to jolt in her chest. Every creak of the floorboards is Jason Bell, dragging himself up the stairs, back for revenge. The flash of a car’s headlights is the flames around Pip as she tries to drag a dying Stanley Forbes out of harm’s way.

Blood on her hands, blood everywhere—

“Hippo Pippo?”

Josh’s voice reaches her from the doorway just as she’s about to start gnawing on the band-aids covering her fingernails. She blinks at his lanky form, illuminated by the faint moonlight from the windows.

“Yeah Josh?”

“Can I sleep with you?” He shuffles further into her room, ducking his head. “You’ve been gone for a really long time, and I miss you.”

A relieved sigh escapes her chest.

“Yeah. C’mere.” She lifts the corner of the blanket, moving to the other side of her bed so that Josh can squeeze in with her. As soon as he’s underneath the covers, he rests his head on her shoulder, eyes falling shut.

“Night Pippo.”

The nickname causes Pip to snort in mild amusement.

“Goodnight Josh.”

~

The next morning, Pip’s mom makes her famous pancakes. Pip traces her finger across the edge of her plate, seated at the counter. She can feel Mom’s eyes on her, tracking her every movement. The interrogation about to come hangs heavy in the air.

“Why haven’t you come home?”

There it is, her voice impossibly gentle. Pip heaves a deep sigh, rolling over the lies in her head before speaking. That’s all she’s been doing lately, all she will be doing for the rest of her life. Lying.

“I had work,” she mumbles, guilt eating away at her. “And flights were difficult. I’m sorry.”

Mom’s face softens as she makes her way around the counter and wraps Pip in a hug. Pip hides her face in her shoulder, willing tears not to fall. No matter how many times someone (mostly Violet) had hugged her at Columbia, it was nothing like the way Mom hugs her, as if she’s shielding her from everything that could possibly hurt her.

“Oh, Pip.” She kisses the top of her head. “It’s okay, honey. I know it’s been difficult for you. Everything with Andie ,and Jamie, and Stanley—”

Blood.

“—and breaking up with Ravi,” Mom continues, stroking her hair. “And I know it must be difficult to come back here, with everything that happened. But I hope you know that we’re always here to support you. And we can help you through it if it means you won’t avoid us.” When she pulls away, there’s a soft, teasing smile on her lips.

“Okay Mom.” Pip smiles, sad but sincere.

“Leanne,” Dad calls through the house, footsteps thundering down the stairs. For a moment, Pip expects to hear the skittering of claws on tile.

That was a long time ago, she reminds herself, heart hurting at the memory of Barney’s smiling golden face.

“Do you know where my jeans are?” Dad continues, entering the kitchen. He pauses to kiss Pip’s hair. “I swear I left them on the end of the bed.”

“I washed them.” Mom rolls her eyes, lifting a mug of coffee to her lips. “They were starting to stink. You really need to wash your clothes more often, Victor.”

“I’ll try.” He makes his way to Mom and gives her a quick, chaste kiss; Pip always used to complain if they kissed in front of her for too long. Now, she doesn’t think she would mind so much.

“They’re in the basket in the laundry room,” Mom calls after him as he exits. Pip allows herself a soft snort of laughter, which Mom catches, her eyes crinkling at the corners.

Josh joins them not long after, dragging his chair as close to Pip’s as possible. Seventeen-year-old Pip would have been annoyed and shoved him away, but twenty-year-old Pip only loops an arm around him and ruffles his hair.

There, the three of them eat their pancakes, with Dad joining them soon after. Josh steals off of Pip’s plate, and she steals off of his, poking him in the ribs if he gets too greedy. It’s almost normal. Like the way it used to be.

Afterwards, Pip tries to help with the dishwasher, but her mom waves her off, so she makes a home on the living room couch, watching Josh play FIFA. Thankfully, that was one obsession he hadn’t lost in the time she’d been away.

“Ravi played FIFA with me while you were gone,” Josh comments sagely, nodding his head without looking back at Pip. “He’s gotten better at it. I’ve taught him well.”

Her heart jumps at the mention of Ravi. It also reminds her that she needs to text him and let him know she’s home so that they can plan a date to meet up. It completely slipped her mind to text him once she landed. Her stomach turns over, butterflies filling her stomach. Her fingers hover over her phone, hesitant and unsure.

What if he doesn’t want me that way anymore? she wonders. What if he’s moved on?

Before she can talk herself out of it, she picks up her phone and types out a quick message.

Pip: Hey, I just wanted to let you know I got in yesterday. Sorry for not texting, it completely slipped my mind.

He responds almost immediately.

Ravi: Hey Sarge! No worries, Cara told me they were going for dinner at your place and I figured you were busy. Would you maybe want to meet up tomorrow? We can go to Jackie’s.

A faint smile crosses Pip’s lips, and she sucks a deep breath into her lungs.

Pip: Sure. Noon?

Ravi: noon sounds great

Pip: See you then.

She sets her phone down and releases a heavy sigh. There. Said and done. Tomorrow, she’s going to see Ravi for the first time again.

“You’re thinking about Ravi,” observes Josh from his spot on the carpet.

“No I’m not!” Pip exclaims, flames crawling up the back of her neck. “How would you even know that?”

“I’m eleven now.” He gives her a toothy grin. “I’m very wise.”

“Sure you are.”

“Hey!”

~

Pip’s knee bounces up and down, occasionally bumping the underside of the table. It’s already five minutes past noon. She knows it’s probably just because Ravi wasn’t always the best with time. Still, no matter how much she tells herself that, her fingers still drum restlessly against her coffee cup, a horrible sinking feeling making a home in the bottom of her stomach.

A small jingle, the sound of the bells at the front door knocking together, reaches Pip’s ears. Her head flies up, eyes fixing on the person that enters.

A mop of dark hair, slightly curled at the ends. Brown skin, soft eyes, and a dimpled chin that Pip remembers admiring with aching clarity. The fingers that always fit so perfectly in between her knuckles, as if they were molded for each other.

He looks a little older. Slightly tired. His gaze skips across the few other patrons before it lands on her. His entire face lights up, as if he were the sun itself, dissipating the gray clouds that cover it. Pip feels her heart stutter and nearly stop in her chest.

“Sarge!” he calls, doing that little half-stepped run over to her. It’s like nothing has changed at all since that day in the woods where she cleaved his heart in half as well as her own.

“Ravi,” she breathes, leaping to her feet. When he reaches her, they freeze, just a few inches away from one another. Her brain is screaming at her to reach out and bury herself in his chest, press her face to his neck to see if it’s still perpetually warm. But she can’t seem to make herself move, and neither can Ravi. He looks at her, really looks at her, eyes searching every inch of her face as if he can’t believe she’s real. Tears threaten to spill from her eyes, throat closing up with all the words she wants to say.

And then the spell breaks.

“Um…how are you?” he asks, scratching the back of his head. Pip freezes up, feeling that wall shoot up between them. The one she knew would be there, no matter how much she hoped that it would just go back to normal.

“Uh…pretty good, I think. How about you?” She gestures for him to sit, and he pulls out the chair opposite her, folding his hands neatly on the table. The sound of her heart beating too fast echoes in her ears.

“I’ve been good. I’m starting my second year of community college in September.” His lips tug upwards into that crooked smile that Pip misses oh so much. “I’m excited. It’s a lot of work, but it’s worth it.”

“I’m sure.” Pip lowers her gaze, fiddling with her fingers in her lap. “Still planning on law school?” She hates that she has to ask that; that she doesn’t know already, that she’s not helping him plan his future.

“Yup.” He nods, hair falling over his eyes.

A strained silence falls over them. Pip is about to speak when Ravi gets there first.

“Do you want me to get the coffees?” He inclines his head to the counter where Jackie is taking the order of someone Pip doesn’t recognize. “I don’t mind paying.”

“Are you sure?” Pip sucks her lower lip into her mouth. “I can just…” She trails off, unsure of what else to say.

“Nah, it’s fine. Trust me.” He hesitates, as if he’s about to reach out for her, but then gets to his feet and takes his place in line. A heavy sigh whooshes through her chest.

I don’t know what I was expecting. She squeezes her hands together to quell the urge to bite her nails. It’s been almost two years. We won’t be the same as we were before. Especially after everything I put him through. She blinks rapidly, her eyes stinging with emotion. Maybe I should just leave, while he’s waiting to order. That would be smart. That way I don’t—

Her train of thought is cut off as Ravi sets a cup in front of her. He’s smiling again as he takes his place across from her once more, blowing gently over the top of his own coffee. She blinks, taking off the lid to peer inside.

“Black,” Ravi supplies at her questioning look. “Is…that okay? I thought you still might—”

“It’s perfect,” Pip interrupts, a reluctant smile crossing her face. “Let me guess; yours has milk and three sugars.”

“Exactly.” A soft huff, sort of a half-laugh, escapes him. “I remember the first time I found out you like black coffee. When you came knocking at my door at seventeen years old, wanting to know about Sal.” Something akin to sadness flits across his face, though it’s more bittersweet. “When everyone thought he was a murderer.”

“And now we know,” Pip says gently, wanting to reach out but ultimately deciding to keep her hands to herself. “And…a lot has happened since then.”

“A lot,” he echoes, features tightening. When his gaze finds hers again, he looks worried. “How…how have you been?” The question is loaded this time around, heavy with a weight that wouldn’t make any sense to an outside observer.

“I’ve been…fine,” she manages, hands trembling in her lap. Though she can feel the wave of panic that usually accompanies conversations like this rising, his steady presence manages to quell it to a quiet agitation. “Living life. Getting through it.”

“Ah.” He looks unconvinced, but he doesn’t push the issue. “Okay. Well, if you ever need anything, you’ll let me know, right?”

“I will.”

It isn’t a lie.

They spend a little longer idly chatting. Pip feels her chest loosening with each laugh, each memory of their time in Fairview together. There’s still a quiet grief and uncertainty that lingers in the back of her mind, but the way Ravi smiles at her manages to quiet it a little bit.

When the last dregs of their coffee have long since gone cold, they toss their cups out and start the trek back to Pip’s house, Ravi insisting on accompanying her. It’s comfortably quiet. Pip subtly makes sure that they don’t take the path through the woods, directing him the other way on the excuse that she doesn’t want to scratch up her ankles. He gives her an amused look at this, but doesn’t protest.

When they reach her driveway, she pauses, inhaling a breath. The house looms in front of her like a foreboding promise.

No, not anymore, she reminds herself.

“Can I…see you again later?” Ravi asks after a moment, hovering behind her with his hands shoved in his pockets. Pip turns to face him, nerves sparking underneath her skin. The look on his face is terribly hopeful, practically cracking Pip’s heart in half.

“Yeah,” she manages eventually. “Yeah, of course. Just text me.”

“Okay. See ya, Sarge.” He gives her a mock salute before turning away. She huffs out a quiet laugh through her nose.

She doesn’t go inside until he disappears around the corner.

~

“Hi,” says Pip nervously as Connor opens the door. The front of the Reynolds’ house still looks like a face. It had stared Pip down as she shuffled to the porch.

“Pip!” he exclaims, face cracking and giving way to surprise. “Holy shit, Pip!”

She barely has time to react before he’s yanking her into a hug, gangly arms looping around her back and tugging her close. She rests her head against his shoulder, exhaling a breath and hugging him just as tightly.

“Jamie! Nat! Mom!” Connor shouts into the house, ruffling her hair affectionately. “Pip’s back!”

“Pip?” comes Joanna’s voice from the kitchen. All at once, three heads poke into view. All of them wear matching expressions of delight.

“Pip!” Jamie is the one to get her first, hugging her so hard he actually lifts her off the ground. Nat is the next one to reach her, hands landing on her shoulders as she presses her face to Pip’s hair. Joanna, last but not least, wraps her in an embrace that smells of garlic and something herbal.

“I didn’t think you were coming home for the summer,” Connor says, squeezing her forearm. His eyes shine with unshed tears, him and his brother wearing a matching expression of joy.

“I changed my mind?” she offers, earning a laugh.

“We’re glad you’re back.” Joanna pulls her into another lasting hug, which Connor, Nat, and Jamie happily join. Pip’s eyes fall shut as the tension melts out of her shoulders. Clearly she did not have to stress about this reunion the entire walk over.

“We’re just having lunch. Why don’t you join us?” Joanna is urging her into the house before Pip can even process the offer she’s being given. Though, she’s not sure she can say no with Connor, Jamie, and Nat all encouraging her to stay. So she joins them in their living room, retrieving a bowl of spinach and tomato pasta. Connor, Joanna, and herself sit on one couch while Jamie and Nat take the other. Even though there’s plenty of room, they’re pressed close to each other’s sides as if it’s nothing but a loveseat. Pip catches the motion of Nat’s thumb rubbing across Jamie’s knuckles and smiles a little to herself.

Conversation comes easily. Pip asks Jamie and Nat about their new house and their new jobs. Jamie announces that he managed to get rehired at Proctor and Radcliffe. Considering the circumstances of which he was under when he tried to steal the money, he was given some leeway, as long as he signed an agreement stating that he had been entirely under the influence of Layla Mead/Charlie Green when he was instructed to do so. When she inquires about Connor’s future plans, he balks and changes the subject, which causes a bout of laughter throughout the group. Even Arthur stops by and says a brief hello to Pip before leaving for work.

“Oh! I forgot to tell you!” Connor says suddenly while Nat is in the middle of a story about her niece. “Becca Bell is out on probation. She’s living with Dawn Bell again.”

Pip’s heart jumps at the same time that guilt weighs down on her shoulders. Just like with everyone else, she’d slowly cut contact with Becca over the past year and a bit, with the promise of telling her the entire story one day.

She just didn’t think it would come so soon.

“That’s good.” Bile churns in her intestines as she quietly asks, “how is Dawn? After…everything?”

Jamie, Nat, and Connor exchange a look that Joanna misses.

“She’s doing well,” Joanna muses, setting her empty bowl on the coffee table with a soft thunk. “We’ve started going for coffee a few times a week. Honestly, she seems more relieved than anything. Especially considering the fact that her husband was a serial killer, and she didn’t even know.” She shook her head. “I don’t want to speak ill of the dead, but if you ask me, it’s better that Jason is gone. Who knows what he might have done next?”

Pip’s vision blurs at the edges, saliva pooling at the back of her throat. Her hands are covered with blood, slick as she smashes the hammer into Jason’s skull again and again and again.

“Pip?” Connor asks gently, dragging her back to the present. “You okay?”

“Yeah.” Pip swallows, the images of that storeroom behind her eyes receding slowly. “Just…thinking about Becca.”

“We all are,” Nat chimes in quietly. Jamie’s face softens, and he squeezes her hand.

The mood is dampened substantially for the rest of the visit, but Pip doesn’t let it affect her. They end up pulling out a game of Monopoly, with Nat kicking everyone’s asses. Jamie, being the “lovesick idiot” he is—as Connor coins it—isn’t too bothered, and congratulates her when Pip finally goes bankrupt.

“He’s so head over heels,” Connor mutters as they walk back to the front door. “Did you see that he reminded her that he owed her rent whenever she forgot? I can’t believe him.”

“In all fairness, she did the same,” Pip observes, tucking her phone in her back pocket. “They’re pretty mutually affectionate towards one another. It’s nice to see.”

“Yeah, I guess.” Connor rolls his eyes and gives an exaggerated groan, which Pip laughs at. When he catches Pip’s eye again, his expression flips to a more serious one.

“I’m really glad you’re back, Pip,” he says without a trace of teasing in his voice. “I missed you a lot. I know you probably had your reasons for avoiding the rest of us, but…I dunno. It wasn’t the same here without you.”

Emotion wells up in Pip’s chest. She tugs Connor in for a goodbye hug, burying her face in his shoulder. He chuckles, taken mildly off-guard, but hugs her back anyway, hand resting between her shoulder blades.

“I’ll see you soon, okay?” He flicks her nose once she pulls away. “I’m sure Jamie and Nat want to as well.”

“Definitely, yeah. And I’ll make sure to call you all more often when school starts back up again.” Pip wipes her eyes, managing a smile. He nods, squeezing her shoulder once more.

“I’ll see you later, Pip.”

“See you.”

~

Pip stands at the end of the sidewalk, staring up at the Bells’ house. The fateful night of both Andie Bell’s and Tara Yates’ death, both at the hands—whether directly or indirectly—of Jason Bell. The house that holds the ghosts of those affected by his cruelty. A gust of wind brushes across Pip’s cheek, startling her back into reality.

Becca is in there. Becca, the girl who watched her sister die. Becca, who roofied Pip in an attempt to make sure that nobody would find out about her crimes.

Becca, a young woman raped by Max Hastings. Becca, a victim of her father, just as her sister and the five women he murdered, and the countless others he raped as the South Shore Stalker.

Just as Pip could have been. Just as Pip is, even if she can’t tell anyone.

But she has to tell Becca now. That promise she made to herself so long ago, in the hopes that they would both be free.

Becca is on probation. Max Hastings is in jail, and Pip is no longer under suspicion. Now is a better time than ever, she supposes. Even if it makes her stomach churn. Nobody but Ravi knows the full story. Not even Cara, who Pip considers more of a sister than a best friend.

But it has to be done.

Swallowing hard, she approaches the house and knocks lightly. It’s Dawn who answers, peering through the thin crack between the door and the frame. Pip raises her fingers in a small wave, heart fluttering in her chest like a caged bird.

“Oh. Pippa Fitz-Amobi.” Pip’s full name whistles through Dawn’s front teeth in a low whisper, as if she’s afraid that if she says it too loud, Pip will be summoned like a witch and put a curse on her. Though, Pip’s already at the door, and she’s not really in a position to curse Dawn. She’s already ruined their lives enough already, if Jason Bell hadn’t done that first.

“Hi. I heard Becca was out, and I promised I’d come see her,” Pip says, the volume of her voice significantly lower than it would usually be. She’s half-sure that if she speaks too loud, Dawn will flinch like a startled animal and she won’t let her in to see Becca.

“Oh…yes, she said you would probably come see her. I just didn’t think it would be today.” Dawn hesitates before pushing the door open wider. Pip catches the sight of their cat, fur black with a few graying streaks, sitting on the kitchen counter.

“Monty!” scolds a familiar voice, the owner hurrying down the stairs. “Get off the counter!”

Becca’s dirty-blonde hair comes into view as she scoops Monty off the counter, scratching between his ears. He purrs contentedly, eyes closing under her attention. It’s a moment before she notices Pip, her eyes widening as they snag on her in the doorway.

“Oh! Pip!” She sets Monty down and approaches the door, stopping next to her mother. The similarities between them are evident; light hair and blue eyes. The ones they shared with Andie, her memory immortalized in their features.

Becca says something, and Pip snaps out of her haze.

“Sorry?”

“I didn’t know you were coming today,” Becca repeats, brows knitting together. “You haven’t called me in a while. Um…what’s going on?”

“Can we talk?”

~

Becca leads Pip to her bedroom. It’s sparse, the walls clean and white, the bed fitted with sheets the same sterile colour.

“Dad…cleaned it out while I was gone,” Becca explains, taking a seat on the edge of the mattress. “I guess he thought I wasn’t coming back. I don’t know.” Her hands sit neatly folded in her lap, thumbs twiddling nervously. A shadow crosses her face, but goes as soon as it had come. “What did you want to talk about?”

Pip takes a deep breath.

Now or never.

First, she shows Becca the email she and Ravi found, the one Andie never sent. Though the police had used it as evidence, Becca hadn’t gotten the chance to see it. Pip assumed that it would be too risky to try and sign into Andie’s old account again, so she’d copied and pasted it into a word document that she made inaccessible without a password. Becca’s eyes shine with tears, her hand raising to cover her mouth as her eyes flick across the screen.

Then Pip begins with the first anonymous email. Who will look for you when you’re the one who disappears? Then she continues with the pigeons, the stick people without heads. Dead girl walking scrawled across the sidewalk. Terror bubbles up in her chest with each recalled memory she’d been trying desperately to suppress, but she pushes through it for the sake of Becca.

She tells her about all five girls, including Julia Hunter’s younger sister, Harriet Hunter, whom Andie had been conversing with leading up to the night of her death. Billy Karras, and the inconsistencies in his trial and subsequent incarceration. She manages to struggle through every last gruesome detail of her own imprisonment in Green Scene Ltd.’s storeroom. She doesn’t mention the terror and despair she felt, but she describes going back. Explains that no one would have believed her. Her hands are warm and damp with blood—no, sweat—as she briefly recounts their process in framing Max Hastings. She apologizes for taking Becca’s father away from her, which Becca scoffs lightly at, her eyes red and wet.

She apologizes for not calling Becca. Apologizes for not being there when she got out.

When the story is finally finished, Pip takes a deep breath, tremors shuddering through her body. Becca is silent for a few minutes, quiet sniffles escaping her. Pip doesn’t pressure her, just sits next to her in silence, feeling the weight of the grief that settles over the room.

Eventually, Becca says, “I’m not upset.”

“What?” Pip blinks.

“I’m not upset.” Becca offers a weak smile. “I felt safer in prison than I did in my own house. He was…always horrible to Andie and I, and Mom. I think that’s why…” She takes a shuddering breath. “Why Andie and I fought so much. Why she hated me so much. Though, I guess in the end she really didn’t, huh?” The laugh that escapes her is fractured and oddly high. “It hurts, knowing I was so horrible to her in the end.”

The dam breaks, tears spilling down her cheeks.

“That’s why she lashed out,” she continues, hands curling into fists on top of her knees. “She was trying to get us out. If our parents found out about the drugs, they would’ve taken her money away, and we would have been stuck. Stuck with a rapist and a killer.”

“It’s not your fault.” Pip lays a hand over hers, chewing on her lower lip. She’s crying too, chest tightening. “It’s not your fault. You didn’t know. You can’t blame yourself.”

“I guess so.” Becca links her fingers with Pip’s, grip taut. “I just…wish I could have said more to her. I wish I’d said I loved her. Love her.” She shakes her head. “I wish she didn’t die thinking I hated her. I wish I didn’t watch her choke on her own vomit. I wish I’d done something differently.”

“Trust me, I know how you feel.” Pip laughs hollowly. “There’s so many things I wish I’d done differently. With Barney, with Stanley, with…everything.”

“I’m sorry again about Barney.” Becca lowers her gaze. “It was my fault he died. Not yours.”

“Wait, I forgot.” Pip looks back up at her. “It’s not your fault Barney died. It’s Jason’s. He…saw you releasing him and killed him.” She considers not adding the last part, but Becca looks at her expectantly. “To punish you.”

“Ah. I’m not surprised.”

A momentary pause.

“She loved Sal, you know,” she adds after a moment. “Ravi’s brother. He was her everything. I know there was that whole thing with Elliot Ward, but…her heart always belonged to Sal. It’s why she didn’t want to involve him. She loved him so much. I like to think Sal knows that, wherever they both are.”

“I think Ravi would be glad to know that.” Pip exhales quietly.

They sit together in silence for a minute or two longer, hands intertwined. Becca’s shoulders shake with silent sobs. Pip doesn’t say anything. She just sits with her in silence, letting the grief wash over both of them.

Eventually, Becca takes a deep breath, removing her hand from Pip’s. When she climbs to her feet, she wipes tears from her eyes.

“I think…I think I need to be alone for a bit.” She rubs her arms. “But…thank you for telling me. And I…I won’t repeat it.”

“Yeah, I know.” Pip stands as well, running a hand through her hair. “I think…Andie would have been proud of you. Of the woman you’ve become.”

“She would have.” As Pip exits her bedroom, she catches her arm, stopping her from leaving down the hallway. “You’ll…come see me again? If it’s not too difficult.”

“No, I will,” Pip promises. “And I’ll call you more often.”

“Okay.” A small smile tugs on her lips. “Bye, Pip.”

“Bye, Becca.”

~

Throughout the next two weeks, Pip meets up with her friends and Ravi a few times. Cara comes over one night, and they binge season four of Stranger Things, bundled in cozy pajamas, squeezed onto Pip’s mattress. Though flashbacks still come in quiet moments or late at night, they don’t swallow her as easily as they used to. When the band-aids fall off, she doesn’t bite her nails to the tips of her fingers. They’re still jagged and mangled, but they don’t bleed when she nibbles on them once or twice.

The walls she’d worked so hard to build throughout those six hundred and ninety-four days of her personal purgatory come crashing down much sooner than she thought they would. Soon, it’s almost like she never left, even if there’s a secret buried underneath all the smiles and laughter.

She and Ravi still aren’t back to normal, though. It’s what she was expecting. The relationship they’d cultivated was destroyed that day in the woods, the moment she’d broken up with him to protect him.

He wanted to get married. The memory hits her with the weight of a semi truck as she lies awake in bed one morning. I broke his heart instead.

He still knows her best, still calms the creature made of terror and shadows that lives inside her chest, replacing the gun that had resided there since Stanley died. But there’s no secret hellos and goodbyes, no silent I love yous. He doesn’t touch her like he used to, doesn’t hold her like he would have more than six hundred and ninety-four days ago.

She can’t find it in herself to be upset about it. She knows she’s not the type of person that deserves Ravi Singh, not yet. For now, she’s just as happy to have him close, to bask in his warmth again.

Her phone buzzes on her bedside table. Her limbs feeling heavy, she reaches for it, peering at the text that pops up on her screen.

Cara: Hello Miss Sweet F-A, I hope you’re awake. Connor and I were thinking that we could all have a movie night tonight? Ravi can come, and I convinced Connor to let Jamie and Nat come too, since Naomi wants to be there :00000 Would you be okay with that???

Pip snorts.

Pip: Sure, that sounds good. We can do it at my house?

Usually she would ask her parents, but she’s pretty sure they’re too happy to have her back to care. It’s difficult and scary, having normal things again, but she’s trying her hardest.

Cara: Sounds good, Plops <333 See you tonight then? Seven??

Pip: Seven sounds great, C.W. Should I text Ravi?

Cara: Already messaged him. He was excited ;)

Pip: Oh, shush.

Her heart flutters and sinks in her chest at the same time. He could be excited for any sort of reason. It doesn’t necessarily mean he wants to restart their relationship.

When Pip finally hauls herself out of bed, she arrives downstairs to the smell of pancakes.

“Pancakes again?” she asks as she enters the kitchen. Josh immediately launches himself at her, throwing his arms around her waist. She pats the top of his head. “It’s the fourth time in a row, isn’t it?”

“Well, you seem to be liking them,” Mom retorts, pointing a spatula at Pip’s nose. “I don’t hear you complaining.”

“I’m not complaining,” Dad announces from the dining room.

“I know you aren’t, Victor,” Mom sighs. She crosses her eyes and sticks out her tongue at Pip. Pip chuckles, shaking her head.

“So, um…,” she says as she grabs a plate, “can Cara, Connor, Ravi, Naomi, Jamie, and Nat come over for a movie tonight? I already told Cara yes, but—”

“That’s fine,” Mom interrupts. “Of course they can. It’ll be nice to see them all together again. I’m sure I can convince your dad to go out and buy snacks.”

“What?” Dad calls.

“I said you could go buy snacks for Pip’s movie tonight,” Mom practically shouts. “Her friends are coming over.”

“Oh, sure.” He enters the kitchen, running a hand over his shaved head. “Sounds great. How many people am I buying for?”

Pip counts on her fingers.

“Six people, seven including me,” she tells him.

“Lots of popcorn, candy, and drinks. Got it.” He ruffles her hair. “I promise to buy the best snacks, Pickle. You won’t be disappointed.”

“I’m sure,” she quips, rolling her eyes.

“Ah, there she is.” He punches her shoulder lightly. “I missed your sass.”

Pip smiles.

I did too.

~

Cara and Naomi arrive first, right at seven o’clock. Cara has apparently done the duty of bringing cookies, which Cara declares are home-baked. (Naomi tells her later that Cara actually just bought them from the store and put them in a Tupperware container). The next to arrive is Connor, bringing a cake that Joanna actually baked. Then Nat and Jamie, with Nat enveloping Pip in a hug.

Ravi arrives last. There’s a moment of hesitation from both ends before he finally awkwardly pats her shoulder. Cara gives Pip a sympathetic look, but she smacks her arm with a hissed “Stop.”

“So, what do we feel like watching?” Cara asks, setting her ‘home-baked’ cookies on the coffee table, next to the snacks Dad bought. Mom took the liberty to lay out some pillows and blankets on the floor as well. Pip appreciates it. “I know it’s only summer, but I was thinking a horror movie?”

“Um…maybe not,” Ravi says with a sidelong glance at Pip. “Not sure if I can handle all the blood.”

Pip blinks gratefully at him.

“We could watch Mean Girls,” Naomi suggests. “That’s a classic.”

“I could go for Mean Girls,” Connor agrees, flopping on the floor and grabbing Cara’s ankle. Cara squeals and jabs her toe into his side, causing him to yelp.

“Mean Girls it is,” Jamie announces. They gather on the couches and floor. Nat flicks off the light, bathing them in darkness aside from the blue glow of the TV. Ravi squeezes himself on the cushion next to her, nudging her shoulder.

Which could mean nothing.

Chip bags crinkle and bottles of pop hiss softly as Cara hits play. Other than the occasional whisper, the room falls into silence as the opening scene rolls past Pip’s eyes. It’s a little difficult to focus with Ravi so close to her, his breath nearly brushing her shoulder.

Halfway through, his hand brushes that spot between her neck and shoulder, the one that’s most ticklish. She flinches, a laugh catching in her throat.

“I’m ticklish there,” she murmurs, assuming it was an accident.

“I know,” Ravi replies softly. She catches him smiling in the low light.

“Oh.” Her stomach flips over. “I thought you forgot.”

He traces his fingers down her arm. They find a home in the divots of her knuckles, causing fireworks to explode underneath her skin.

“I never forgot.” His breath grazes her ear.

Pip shudders, flushing all the way up to her ears. Unsure how to respond, she turns her gaze back towards the movie, fingers curling against his palm.

~

Most of them leave around midnight. Ravi lingers, watching her in that quiet way he always does as she tidies up empty chip bags and cookie crumbs. After a moment, he silently helps her, tossing the empty soda bottles in the recycling. They work in tandem without having to say a word, folding up blankets and tossing pillows back on the sofa. It’s easy, familiar; there’s no pressure to fill the quiet.

He trails after her as she carries the folded blankets to the upstairs closet, his gaze burning like a hot iron on her back. She forces herself not to look at him as she puts them back, lips glued shut.

“You’re quiet,” he observes after a moment, the smile evident in his voice. She swallows hard, her throat bobbing.

“I’m thinking,” she replies, closing the closet doors and spinning around to look at him. Flyaway strands of his hair are illuminated by the moonlight streaming in through the window, eyes glowing faintly. He’s still smiling.

“About what?”

“I’m sure you know already.” She turns to go back downstairs, but Ravi catches her arm, gently tugging her back. Her breath hitches.

“Hey. Talk to me.” He takes her hand, rubbing his thumb over her knuckles. “You’ve been all weird since you came back.” His voice softens. “What’s going on?”

She tries to push it down. She really tries. But this is Ravi. The person who’s always understood her more than anyone, her constant safe space, even when he wasn’t physically there with her. The person she’s willing to sacrifice the world for, no matter what it takes.

Tears spring to her eyes.

“I’m scared,” she admits, her voice barely above a whisper. “I’m not the same as I was before, Ravi. I hurt everyone. I know it was to protect them, but I still pushed them away. And it was selfish of me in the first place to involve any of you at all, but I just…I couldn’t have done it by myself. I’m only here because of all of you. And maybe it’s selfish to want all of you back in my life after what I did, but I can’t help it.” Tears spill down her cheeks, her voice wavering. “I’m a horrible person. Maybe I’ve always been a horrible person. I don’t know.”

“Hey, Sarge.” He rests one hand on the back of her neck, bringing his forehead to hers. She gasps out a sob, fingers curling into the fabric of his t-shirt. His eyes are soft as they meet hers.

“Sarge,” he says again. “Are you seriously calling yourself a bad person? You are one of the best people I’ve ever met in my entire life. You dedicated so much of your time to prove Sal innocent, and you pulled it off. Do you know how seriously amazing that is?”

She laughs, the sound breaking off at the end.

“You found Jamie when he went missing, when nobody else tried,” he continues, his other hand cradling her face. “You searched for him relentlessly when so few people believed you. And you found him. That’s pretty damn impressive.”

“But Stanley—”

“Don’t start with that.” He tweaks her nose. “You did your best. You believed he was a good person in the end, when not many people even wanted to give him a chance. You tried so hard to save him, and even if it didn’t work out in the end, he died knowing someone cared about him.”

His fingers brush her lower lip.

“You’ve always been such a kind and caring person, Pip. Even if you have your flaws, you relentlessly try to do what’s right. That’s more than a lot of people can say. You’ve always put others before yourself. You’re the type of person who cares about other people.”

Pip sniffles.

“During those six hundred and ninety-four days, I told myself I’d do my best to become the type of person who deserves you,” she confesses, voice shaky.

“Oh, Pip.” Ravi leans closer. “You already are.”

His lips graze her own. But he doesn’t go further than that. He waits for her to close the gap, hands resting on either side of her face.

“Does it ever get easier?” Pip breathes out, heart cracking in her chest. “The grief? The sadness?”

“Not really.” His nose brushes against hers, breath warm as it fans across her lips. “Some days it is. Some days I feel like I’m falling apart and nothing will put me back together again. But as time passes, you sort of…grow around your grief.” Silver droplets shine on his dark lashes. “There’s always going to be that hole there. It doesn’t get smaller. But I think the rest of you gets bigger.”

Pip nods, letting her eyes fall shut. He doesn’t rush her.

“I love you, Ravi Singh.” The confession is soft, aching.

“I love you, Pippa Fitz-Amobi.”

She twists her fingers into the collar of his shirt, dragging his lips to hers. His lashes flutter against her skin as he slides one hand into her hair, tilting his head into the kiss. He tastes of home and safety and new beginnings, breath mingling with hers. Her arms loop around his neck, pulling him closer.

She’s never going to let him go again.

When they separate, her lips buzz faintly. His forehead presses to hers again.

“Half your sadness,” he murmurs. “Half your headache. Half your nerves.”

“Half less of a bad thing means there’s room for half good,” Pip finishes.

They stand there for some time, wrapped in each other’s embrace.

Three minutes, to be exact.