No, the first thing I need to do is contact the police.
I dial nine-one-one, and when emergency response answers, I tell her everything that happened. She takes down my information and says she’ll have someone head over to investigate and once they’ve done so, they will follow up with me.
After we hang up, I run around the condo, checking all the windows and the front door, making sure they’re locked. Then I remember my keys were in my purse. If they want to get in, all they have to do is unlock the door and walk in. With that thought, I lock myself in my bedroom and push my dresser in front of the door. It probably won’t stop men like that from getting to me, but I don’t know what else to do.
After changing into my pajamas, I fall into my sheets, mentally drained and heartbroken. I need to tell my parents. I need to tell Blaire. There’s a funeral my parents will have to plan. My head is fuzzy, so I close my eyes to stop the dizziness. My brain and heart are just so, so tired. I would like nothing more than to fall asleep and pretend like today didn’t happen. Pretend my brother is still alive and my mom hasn’t spent years lying and deceiving her family. But my body has other plans. The tears fall, one after another, and for the next several hours, I cry into my pillow, until my body and mind finally give up and I fall into a fitful sleep.
Nevaeh
I wake up to my house phone ringing. I sit up and, after fumbling with the phone, hit the answer button.
“Is this Nevaeh Hansen?”
“This is she. Who’s speaking?”
“Detective Roberts. I’m a colleague of your brother’s. After dispatch received your call last night, we went over to your brother’s place. Can you meet me at the station? I would like to speak with you.”
“Of course,” I say, already pulling the sheets back and throwing on an outfit without even seeing what I’m putting on.
I get to the station and Detective Roberts greets me then walks me back to a small room, gesturing for me to take a seat.
“Nevaeh, I’m going to record our conversation just in case I need to go back to it later. Is that okay?”
“Sure.”
“Can you please repeat for me what you said when you called nine-one-one yesterday at three thirty-three in the morning?”
Jeez, I didn’t realize I called so late. It felt like it was only minutes after I found my brother dead. I tell the detective everything that happened yesterday. I’m not sure if it’s identical to what I said on the phone as I was out of it, but I tell him everything I know. I have to stop a few times when I get choked up. The detective, though, is patient with me, handing me tissues when I’m forced to stop my story because I’m crying too hard.
When I’m finally finished, the detective says, “Thank you. I can’t speak too much on the case since this is now an open investigation, but as I said on the phone, this morning after you called, we drove over to your brother’s apartment. Only, we didn’t find him.”
A cold shiver runs down my spine. “What do you mean you didn’t find him?”
“He wasn’t there.” He pulls out a couple photos. “I had them print these to show you since his home is currently under an active investigation based on your call.”
I take the photos from the detective and look at each one, the blood draining from my body. My throat feels like it’s closing. Each one is of another part of Stephen’s home. The living room looks spotless. My flats aren’t in the picture where they should be next to the couch. My purse was sitting on the end table. It’s gone. The tiled floor, where Stephen’s body lay cold and still, is clean. No blood anywhere. It’s like I’m looking at a completely different home.
Did I imagine the whole thing?
“I-I don’t get it. He was right there.” I press my finger on the photo with the sparkling clean living room floor. “He was right there, dead. His eyes were open, but he wasn’t alive. Blood was pouring out of his lifeless body.” Fresh tears burn behind my lids, and I try to blink them away. I hate the last time I saw my brother was in that way. Instead of imagining his smile and laughter, I’m stuck replaying what he looked like when he died.
“Nevaeh, I want to believe you, I do, but it’s all not adding up. Your brother called yesterday morning and said he had to go out of town unexpectedly. He’s using some vacation time he’s saved up.”
My head shoots up in shock. Stephen never mentioned going out of town to me. I turn the photo around so the detective can see it. “He was right here.” I jab my finger into the image. A tear flies off my cheek and makes a wet spot on the image. “You think I’m making this up?”