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Authors: Kimberly Derting
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fabricate. Violet wished that her account could have been so simple.
But it wasnât.
Coincidence. Chance. These were the words she counted on to create a veil of deceit, to keep her âgiftâ a secret.
She must have been convincing enough, though, because she could see the sympathy in the eyes of everyone who heard her story. Sincere looks that conveyed compassion directed at the poor girl who had stumbled upon such a horrific scene.
Her uncle Stephenâs presence was reassuring to her on many levels, and eventually, maybe sooner than was usual,she was released to her family. He also took responsibility for getting Jay home, since Jayâs mother, the only woman in the known universe who didnât own a cell phone, couldnât be reached.
Violet rode with her dad, but Stephen insisted on taking Jay with him. Jay didnât complain as he climbed into the front of the police cruiser, asking if he could turn on the siren.
He was like an eager five-year-old. It was kind of childish. But also really adorable.
Violet was glad for the relative calm that riding with her dad afforded her. He was a still sort of man, and sometimes just being within armâs reach of him could soothe her most frayed nerves. Besides, unlike her mom, who was a little New Agey and was always encouraging Violet to âshareâ her feelings, her dad wouldnât press her for information before she was ready. He would wait her out, listening silently when she did decide the time was right.
Violet leaned her head back and tried to absorb some of her fatherâs tranquillity.
After a time, though, she couldnât not speak. âThere was a light,â she explained. Her voice sounded strange, as if it were echoing up from a long, vacant tunnel. She cleared her throat and tried again. âI saw a rainbow of lights coming up from below the water.â
He knew, of course. Not about the light, but that she had in some way been called by the girlâs lifeless body.
Her dad was quiet in his usual way. He was serious, stable, solid. As always, he was Violetâs rock.
âI didnât say anything about it to Jay. I just followed it, so I could get a better look. Jay didnât even realize what I was looking for until it was too late.â She kept her eyes closed as the car drifted over the familiar highway toward home.
Her dad reached over and squeezed her knee. That was all it took.
The tears finally came, crushing the breath from her with a surprising intensity. Her dad didnât say anything, but she felt the car pulling off the road, and then he hauled her close to him. She cried like that, leaning against him inside of the parked car, for what seemed like hours but was probably only minutes. She didnât care that they were parked along a busy highway, or that she was clinging to him like she was a child. She let herself sob, crying for herself and crying too for the girl in the water, and for whomever that girl had left behind in the wake of her tragic death.
It bothered her to know that the girl had been murdered. That she, and Jay, and her father, and her uncle all knew , based on the echo that Violet had discovered, but that they couldnât tell anyone. She was sure the police would figure it out, that they would find evidence to support that fact, but still, she hated knowing for certain. She hated lying about it, and forcing othersâthose she cared about mostâto keep her secrets.
She held on to her father, even when the tears were nearly gone. She felt safe in his arms. âI donât want to be able to do that anymore,â she mumbled hoarsely into his damp shirt. âI donât mind the animals, I canât explain why, I just donât. But why did I have to see⦠thatâ¦her ?â She whispered the lastword so softly that she wasnât even sure heâd heard it.
He patted her back, and when he finally spoke Violet jumped a little. Every muscle
But it wasnât.
Coincidence. Chance. These were the words she counted on to create a veil of deceit, to keep her âgiftâ a secret.
She must have been convincing enough, though, because she could see the sympathy in the eyes of everyone who heard her story. Sincere looks that conveyed compassion directed at the poor girl who had stumbled upon such a horrific scene.
Her uncle Stephenâs presence was reassuring to her on many levels, and eventually, maybe sooner than was usual,she was released to her family. He also took responsibility for getting Jay home, since Jayâs mother, the only woman in the known universe who didnât own a cell phone, couldnât be reached.
Violet rode with her dad, but Stephen insisted on taking Jay with him. Jay didnât complain as he climbed into the front of the police cruiser, asking if he could turn on the siren.
He was like an eager five-year-old. It was kind of childish. But also really adorable.
Violet was glad for the relative calm that riding with her dad afforded her. He was a still sort of man, and sometimes just being within armâs reach of him could soothe her most frayed nerves. Besides, unlike her mom, who was a little New Agey and was always encouraging Violet to âshareâ her feelings, her dad wouldnât press her for information before she was ready. He would wait her out, listening silently when she did decide the time was right.
Violet leaned her head back and tried to absorb some of her fatherâs tranquillity.
After a time, though, she couldnât not speak. âThere was a light,â she explained. Her voice sounded strange, as if it were echoing up from a long, vacant tunnel. She cleared her throat and tried again. âI saw a rainbow of lights coming up from below the water.â
He knew, of course. Not about the light, but that she had in some way been called by the girlâs lifeless body.
Her dad was quiet in his usual way. He was serious, stable, solid. As always, he was Violetâs rock.
âI didnât say anything about it to Jay. I just followed it, so I could get a better look. Jay didnât even realize what I was looking for until it was too late.â She kept her eyes closed as the car drifted over the familiar highway toward home.
Her dad reached over and squeezed her knee. That was all it took.
The tears finally came, crushing the breath from her with a surprising intensity. Her dad didnât say anything, but she felt the car pulling off the road, and then he hauled her close to him. She cried like that, leaning against him inside of the parked car, for what seemed like hours but was probably only minutes. She didnât care that they were parked along a busy highway, or that she was clinging to him like she was a child. She let herself sob, crying for herself and crying too for the girl in the water, and for whomever that girl had left behind in the wake of her tragic death.
It bothered her to know that the girl had been murdered. That she, and Jay, and her father, and her uncle all knew , based on the echo that Violet had discovered, but that they couldnât tell anyone. She was sure the police would figure it out, that they would find evidence to support that fact, but still, she hated knowing for certain. She hated lying about it, and forcing othersâthose she cared about mostâto keep her secrets.
She held on to her father, even when the tears were nearly gone. She felt safe in his arms. âI donât want to be able to do that anymore,â she mumbled hoarsely into his damp shirt. âI donât mind the animals, I canât explain why, I just donât. But why did I have to see⦠thatâ¦her ?â She whispered the lastword so softly that she wasnât even sure heâd heard it.
He patted her back, and when he finally spoke Violet jumped a little. Every muscle
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