Tanner frowned but nodded. “Sure thing.”
I turned and left before I could give myself away and returned ten minutes later in my own body. My heart didn’t stop pounding until we were off the ground, and even then I barely allowed myself to relax. Once Major found out what I’d done, and there was no doubt that he would, I’d be punished. But I’d worry about that later. For now, I knew what I needed to do.
The helicopter dropped me off in a meadow near Livingston before turning to make its way back to headquarters. Nobody had stopped us. Surprisingly Tanner hadn’t tried to entertain me during the flight. Maybe he’d sensed that I wasn’t in the mood for joking before a funeral. I planned to spend the night in a motel in Manlow and take a train back to the FEA the next morning. I reasoned that maybe Tanner wouldn’t get in too much trouble that way.
Instead of going directly to the cemetery and waiting for the funeral to begin, I walked to the Chambers’ house. I snuck into the back garden and peered through the living room windows.
Everyone was gathered inside. Linda and Ronald, Madison’s aunts and uncles, her grandparents, Ana, and Devon. He was the only one who understood what had happened, the only one who knew his sister hadn’t died a week ago but had actually been gone for much longer. Somehow Major had convinced him to keep it from his family, to tell them the lie the FEA had prepared.
Devon looked out into the garden as if he could feel my presence. I ducked. It wasn’t right for me to be here. This was their private moment of grief. I had no place in their lives.
A door creaked—the back screen door. I knew the sound by heart. Before I could slink away, Devon stood in front of me, dressed in black from head to toe. There were dark shadows beneath his eyes.
I tried to back away from him but he cornered me at the end of the backyard, bordering on the forest. His hand curled around my arm, preventing me from slipping away. I didn’t try to shake him off. Whatever he had to say, I would bear it. I deserved it all. I pulled my coat tighter around my body and looked up. Fatigue crowded at the edges of his eyes and mouth. “You shouldn’t have come.” His voice was quiet and gentle. A lethal blow served with serenity.
I recoiled and his hand slipped lower, his fingertips tracing the bare skin of my wrist. Sparks shot through my arm at the contact. I jerked but his touch remained steady. His eyes searched mine. Softly he said, “You’re hurting.”
I freed my wrist from his fingers and wrapped my arms around myself. “I’m not hurt,” I muttered.
“You know what I mean.”
I scanned the trees, their withered bark green with moss. The air hung around us, heavy and humid. It had barely stopped raining over the last few days.
“Sometimes anguish can be so strong that it turns into something physical, something I can feel.”
“Can you heal it like you do wounds?” My voice was so quiet, I wasn’t sure he heard it over the pitter-patter of rain hitting the leaves above us. But then he shook his head. I nodded, blinking back the tears threatening to spill over my eyes. I took a shuddering breath. “So what did you tell your parents?” For a dangerous moment I’d wanted to say “our parents.”
Devon looked back at the house as if he could see them through the walls. “Major Sanchez told them. He said that Madison followed Ryan into the house and he killed her. I tried to save her, but it was too late.” His voice was hollow, the words mechanical.
“They believed him?”
Devon let out an empty laugh. “Do you even have to ask?”
I shook my head. Of course not. The story made sense. And Major could be very convincing.
He cleared his throat. “I need to get back inside. We have to leave soon.” His eyes held mine but they were guarded. “Tessa, I’m sorry. But I don’t think you should come. It’ll only make it worse.” Without another word he headed for the back door and disappeared inside.
Though Devon didn’t want me to attend the funeral, I couldn’t bring myself to leave. I’d come all the way from headquarters and risked everything to find closure.
The cemetery was crowded with people. Everyone, it seemed, felt compelled to say good-bye to a girl who’d died too young.
I followed in their wake—like a shadow. Tears rolled down my cheeks but they weren’t for Madison alone. I’d said good-bye to her weeks ago. This good-bye was for everyone. Linda and Ronald, Mom and Dad as I’d come to think of them, walked ahead of the crowd, the mourners right behind them like a cloud of sadness. But in front of them all, like a beacon of light, was Madison’s white casket. It glowed despite the gloom of the day.