Open House: A Novel by Katie Sise

Author:Katie Sise [Sise, Katie]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2020-12-01T00:00:00+00:00

TWENTY-NINE

Emma

Ten years ago

The night is getting colder. I’ve crept farther into the woods, already regretting that I didn’t just meet Brad in the parking lot with the streetlight and the other cars. I’ve never been in the woods by myself—it was always my dad, Haley, and me when we hiked here—and now I feel foolish for always making fun of Josie for being scared.

I push through the brush, my mind flashing to Noah. I can see his deep hazel eyes and the sweep of golden stubble along his jaw. I can see his strong shoulders and the way his body looks without anything covering it. I start to calm down a little, but then, uninvited, I see Josie in my mind, too. I stop moving and squeeze my eyes shut. Get out, I try to say to the image of her in our room wearing only her bra, staring at Noah and me. My hands go to my cold cheeks and press hard against the skin, as if I can shake the memory free, and then I start to wonder if I’ve really lost it. I open my eyes and keep moving, picking up my pace. The evergreens along the trail seem to snake closer to my skin like a too-tight sweater. Pointy, jagged branches claw at my jacket, and I imagine painting this place when I finally get out of here. I can practically feel my fingers gripping a brush, and the way it will feel to drag it across the canvas with pine-green paint in its wake. I think about the first time Chris saw my paintings, and how, even with a real artist for a sister, he was rendered speechless. Maybe I just need to get out of my head and paint more and forget trying to make every canvas perfect. Or swim more. I used to do that in high school, but I wasn’t good enough to make the team at Yarrow.

I blink. My eyes don’t seem to be adjusting properly—there’s a full moon, but every time the clouds get in the way it’s too dark. I stumble over a rock and catch myself. Is this even the right way toward marker two? The clouds clear, and I press onward, hugging my arms over my chest, thinking about my dad and the weird text he just sent me. He wants to talk to me alone. We always talk as a family when we fight, but this whole thing started over me accusing him of having an affair. So the fact that he wants us to be alone probably means he’s guilty.

A bird’s cry cuts the night air. The twisting and turning of the path still feels so unfamiliar. I slow for a second to catch my breath, and that’s when I hear the footsteps.

“Hello?” I call out. The sound of twigs and branches crunching is unmistakable. “Hello?” I say once more, but no one answers. Surely they’re close enough to hear me—they should be saying something. I whip out my phone for the flashlight and see a missed call from my dad.

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