Hunter’s name and magnified their loss. In the bathroom Holly shared with him, she put his toothbrush, hairbrush, aftershave and razors into plastic bags and stowed them under the sink, out of sight. It helped to not have to constantly see his belongings, reminding her that he wasn’t coming home.
In his bedroom, most of his things were packed in boxes and stacked along one wall, ready for the trip to college that would never come. He had stripped his bulletin board above his desk and now only a few lone thumbtacks remained in the cork. His closets were mostly empty and his bed was neatly made. Holly touched his pillow, where his head had lain only the night before, and cried.
She slept fitfully and woke with a start late Monday night to the sounds of weeping. She followed the sounds and found her mother sitting in the middle of Hunter’s bed, holding his pillow and sobbing into it. Holly eased wordlessly onto the bed.
“It still smells like him,” Evelyn said.
Holly buried her face in the pillow, where Hunter’s scent lingered. “Why is this happening?” she whispered. “Why Hunter? Why us?”
Her mother didn’t speak for a long time. When she did, she said, “All I know, Holly, is that almost nineteen years ago, God gave me a baby boy. A son. And now he’s taken him away. In the cruelest and most terrible of ways, he’s taken him from me.”
Hunter’s nineteenth birthday was coming up on September 30. Holly cried harder. All she wanted was for the pain to go away. She wanted her mother to comfort her, but Evelyn did not. And inside the shell of Hunter’s room, Holly feared that she
could
not. Her mother had entered a dark place. She wouldn’t be coming out anytime soon.
On Tuesday, Holly turned on her cell phone and found her voice mailbox crammed with messages from Kathleen, Carson, friends from the hospital and friends from school. There were none from Raina. Holly called Kathleen.
“I’m so relieved to hear from you!” Kathleen cried at the sound of Holly’s voice.
“I’m sorry I haven’t called sooner.”
“It’s okay. Please don’t even think about it. I—I just needed to hear your voice.”
Emotion clogged Holly’s throat.
Kathleen asked, “Have you talked to Raina?”
“Not since . . . Sunday.”
“She’s not taking any calls. Carson and I went to her house on Monday, but her mother said she’s in bad shape and her doctor was giving her sleeping meds and a few tranquilizers to help her through these next few days. Her mother is taking personal days off from work to take care of her.”
“She was awfully upset,” Holly said, alarmed by the information. At least Holly had her parents to go through the horror with her. Raina was alone. Of course Vicki was around, but they had been at odds for months.
“The TV stations are showing the surveillance tape. Have you seen it?”
“We’re keeping the TV off, but I’ll tell my folks.” Holly’s stomach heaved as she thought about actually seeing the person who’d done so much damage to their lives.
“Do you think you’ll come back to school anytime soon?”
Holly hadn’t thought once about school in days. “I don’t know.”
“Mom let me stay home again today, but I’ll have to go tomorrow. I’m not looking forward to it.”
“I—I have to go now.”
“Sure,” Kathleen said. “Call me again soon?”
“I will.”
Holly hung up, rested her forehead in her hands and was startled when her cell chirped. She didn’t recognize the number, but answered it anyway. If some reporter had gotten hold of her number, she was prepared to blast him or her.
“Hi. I—I wasn’t sure you’d talk to me. I’ve called a couple of times, but didn’t leave messages.” The caller was Chad.
The memory of his face, his dark eyes and his unruly curly hair flashed. There might have been a time when she’d have been ecstatic to have a boy call her. Now it was inconsequential. “I’ve had my phone off for