“What?” he asked, trying unsuccessfully to quash the hostility in his voice.

  “Tell Kristy I'm sorry. I didn't do this to hurt any of you. I know you seem to have forgotten that in your quest for truth, but I'm a victim in all of this, Alan. Matty was my friend. I loved him, and I know for damn sure that he loved me too. Try not to forget that when you're painting horrible scenarios in your head of what you think went down that night."

  Without another word, I walked around the table and straight out the door. I didn't wait for a response from him. I didn't want one.

  Nearly in an all-out run by the time I got downstairs, I quickly made my way past Alice at the front desk before she buzzed me out. Through the double doors and down the flight of concrete steps outside, I fled to the TT that sat idling, waiting for my arrival. I practically tore the passenger door off before I jumped in and slammed it behind me.

  “Sounds like that went well,” Cooper observed with his typical sarcasm.

  “Drive,” I barked, not wanting to get into it.

  “Another cheery homecoming?”

  “Exactly.”

  “Do you want some more good news or should I save it for later?”

  he asked, losing some of his mocking tone.

  “Fuck. What now?”

  “I was reading the paper while you were in there,” he started, shifting uncomfortably in his seat before pulling into traffic. "Matty was in there―in the obituaries. Do you want to―”

  “No!” I shouted, putting my arm up defensively as he reached between the seats for the paper. “I don't want to see it." I took a moment to catch my breath before continuing. “I'm sorry. I didn't mean to yell at you. Is that the good news you spoke of?”

  “No,” he said plainly.

  “Just lay it on me, Cooper. Please.”

  “It said that his funeral is tomorrow. In Boston.” Fuck me. “What are you going to do?” he asked, eyeing me out of his periphery.

  “I don't know...”

  “I could go down with you, if you want to go.”

  “No,” I said abruptly. “That's something I need to do on my own.”

  He pressed his lips together firmly in a half frown.

  “There's a freak storm coming up the coast. It's going to be brutal.”

  “I've driven in snow before, Cooper. I'll be fine,” I replied, staring off towards my apartment as we rounded the final corner on the way home. "I'm not sure what I want to do yet. I'm going to sleep on it first.”

  “Whatever you think is best.” Cooper parked the car in front of the shop and we simultaneously got out. “Go upstairs,” he ordered, throwing me the keys. “I've gotta do something in town. Go have a nap. I'll be home in a few.”

  I nodded silently and did as I was told.

  Once inside the main door, I schlepped my weary body up the stairs to the apartment. Exhausted didn't even begin to describe how drained I felt. I closed the door behind me and shuffled down the hall to my bedroom, flopping down onto the bed the second I reached it. Cooper wanted me to get some rest, and that was exactly what I was going to do.

  *

  Hours later I awoke to darkness surrounding me and a shrill beeping sound somewhere in my room. Disoriented and startled, I fumbled my way out of my bed in a panic only to crash into the night-stand by my bed. In my half-awake state, I had no idea where I was.

  “Cooper!” I yelled, trying to control my rising unease.

  As always, he was by my side in a flash.

  “What's wrong?” he asked as he flipped on the bedside lamp. It illuminated the concern on his face.

  “There was a sound, and I jumped out of bed to see what it was, but then I ran into the furniture...and it was so dark, and I...I...," I rambled, feeling increasingly ridiculous. “I didn't know where I was.”

  He scooped me up in his arms and hugged me tight to his chest.

  “You're home,” he whispered softly. “That's where you are. For good.”

  And I was. Good or bad, drama or not, I was finally back where I belonged. I welcomed the feeling.

  “Sounds perfect to me,” I said, smiling.

  “Good. Now what the hell was this sound that woke you up in such a tizzy anyway?”

  I pulled away from him to search the room for the most likely suspect. I found it lying on the table that had taken a chunk out of my leg only moments earlier. My innocent-looking cell phone looked at my laughingly. A text had been the cause of my near meltdown.

  “My phone must have gone off,” I replied, walking over to retrieve it. I was surprised by what I saw―a message from Alan: Filled out the proper paperwork regarding your reappearance. BPD has been notified as well. It'll be on the news this evening. Be prepared for the backlash.

  I'm sorry about today. Talk later.

  “So much for my quiet reentry to life,” I mumbled to myself. “I guess I won't have to call the Carmilos to tell them I'm alive and coming.” I couldn’t keep the dryness out of my tone.

  “Why's that?”

  “Because I'm about to be breaking news. Alan spread the word about my return.”

  “Well,” he said, scratching his head. “He didn't really have a choice, and in fairness, that cat had to be let out of the bag at some point. Guess now is as good a time as any."

  “I guess so,” I muttered to myself, getting up to go into the living room and hunker down for the rest of the evening. I wanted to crawl into a cave and hide, but I'd already done that for three weeks, metaphorically speaking.

  “Where are you going?” he asked, following behind me.

  “I don't want to miss the big story,” I replied sarcastically. “I think I'll make a stiff drink for the show."

  “Better make two, then. Can't have you drinking alone...”

  I scoffed as I entered the kitchen, Alan's words running rampant through my mind.

  Be prepared for the backlash...

  The story of my life.

  6

  There hadn't been a Nor'easter like that in New England for decades.

  Twenty inches of snow was forecast to pummel the coastline from the Providence area up, but only after an inch of freezing rain laid the foundation for treacherous road conditions. Just as the weatherman had predicted, it was the perfect storm.

  While I drove to Boston, signs of that storm were already visible, the weather steadily deteriorating. Along with it went my resolve. I had dreaded that day, fiercely.

  During the time the commute provided, I reflected on things that only deepened my sadness—my sense of loss. Thoughts of the hours Matty and I had spent together in dance class, joking around instead of paying attention, clowning our way through choreography, and stopping for food afterward. His twenty-second birthday party at his parents' house was one of my favorites. I loved his family, and they took me in like I was one of their own.

  Carmen...Dominic...

  The pain in my chest was excruciating when I thought of them.

  They'd already lost one son by the time I had met Matty, and, because of me, they would bury another. I didn't know how I could face them.

  I flew past exits on the interstate while I drove, and, before I realized what I was doing, I took one of them, turning off the highway in an attempt to loop back onto it to retreat north. I pulled into a gas station before my cowardice fully took over and tried to pull myself together.

  My hands shook uncontrollably, and no matter how hard I gripped the wheel, it did nothing to quash the quaking.

  Laying Matty to rest was not something I wanted to be a part of.

  The three weeks I’d spent tucked away in Scarlet's mind had offered me a certain escape from reality. Though the events that had occurred on the night of Matty's murder played through my mind repeatedly, I could detach from them because I hadn't faced the aftermath. The final vision of Matty's decapitated body should have clearly illustrated that he was gone, but it didn't.

  Burying what remained of him would.

  I took multiple deep breaths before putting the car back in gear, driving off towards the entrance ramp for I-93 South. The rain was falling harder and the temperature plummeted as I drove. Funeral or not, the worst of the storm wouldn't hold off for long. My emotions couldn't be held back forever either, and I was suddenly in a hurry to get the whole ordeal over with.

  I thought about watching from afar, hidden by trees or headstones nearby, so I could avoid the onslaught of grief I was sure to be bombarded with. It was cowardly, but I was certain that, when faced with the totality of my own grief, I would crumble under the weight of anything else. Matty was always so strong, both physically and emotionally. I selfishly wished for his strength in that moment. If I couldn't be strong, then I would at least be honorable and bear my pain publicly, for all who loved him to see. It was by my actions that he was about to be put six feet under, and I owed it to him to be there.

  Cars thickly lined the street on both sides, forcing me to park nearly a block away. I had dressed for the unseasonable cold, but not the freezing rain. My black stilettos offered little stability on the icy walkways, and I teetered my way across the street to the main entrance of the cemetery.

  “He always said you had impeccable fashion sense,” a voice called to me from inside the wrought iron gates. A man around thirty rounded the corner, headed in my direction. He was difficult to make out at first through the assaulting rain, but once I was closer, I saw that it was one of Matty's brothers-in-law.

  “I guess I didn't review the weather as thoroughly as I should have before I left,” I said, walking towards his extended hand.

  “Let me help you,” he said, placing my hand in the crook of his folded arm. “I had to run back to the car for another umbrella. Rosa's didn't hold up well with the wind.” I looked up at the flimsy, travel-sized one I held and prayed it would manage the weather. “I saw you on the news last night,” he said softly, uncertain as to where to take his observation after that.

  “I was going to call Carmen...”

  “She was elated, Ruby. She'll be so glad to see you alive and well...even if she can't see Matty.” His tone was somber, and I fought against the growing sorrow he felt. We were awkwardly quiet after that as we made our way through the cemetery. I eventually lost my battle and his energy penetrated me, adding to my cloud of growing sadness. He had loved Matty like a little brother. That was plain.

  As we neared the plot, I noticed the sea of black encircling it. My heart skipped, realizing what was in the center of that sea, and the end of my denial was official―tears spilled onto my cheeks effortlessly.

  Without skipping a beat, my escort offered me a tissue, which I gladly took. I had left my purse in the car, not wanting to carry that and an umbrella in the likely event that I would fall and have no free hands to catch myself with. It also left me without my stockpile of Kleenex.

  “Thanks,” I said, sniffling.

  “I've gotten really good at having those on me,” he said soberly.

  “There haven't been a lot of dry eyes in my house lately.”

  Just then, he was called away by his wife, leaving me to deal with the metaphorical knife he'd just plunged into my side. I caused those tears. I brought that sorrow on his wife. His children.

  I wanted to run back to the car and hide, but instead, I found a station near the rear of the massive crowd. Matty always joked about how expensive his wedding would be one day because his family was so enormous. Based on what I saw, he wasn't kidding; there were easily two hundred people in attendance. I did my best to blend into the background, but I made a pointed effort to be sure I could see his casket. For some reason, seeing it eased my pain rather than intensified it.

  The sermon was done entirely in Italian, leaving me unable to follow, but the beauty of the priest’s words was apparent, regardless. The priest sang as Matty was lowered into his final resting place, his words traveling so clearly through the air. I felt carried away by them, then realized that I was actually walking forward toward the grave on guided feet. I swore I could actually feel Matty's arm around my shoulders, guiding me towards him―his resting place. When I finally stopped, I was standing right next to his mother, whose cries snapped me back to reality.

  For years I had been influenced by the emotions of others, but nothing before had ever come close to the rawness that she felt in that moment. My knees buckled, and I fell upon them beside her, taking her hand in mine. Physical contact only intensified our connection, but it was what she needed and the punishment I deserved, so I stayed where I was, weathering her storm.

  I looked up at the faces around me, red and tear-stained, and reached out for their energies―all of them. Taking it all on at once was masochistic, but pain had a tipping point for me, allowing it to become welcome and warming. In that moment, I was so there.

  The rest of the funeral was a blur. Someone helped me to my feet at the end, and I was engulfed by the swarm of people trying to pay their respects to Matty's parents. Emotionally exhausted from the ordeal, I tried to make my way out of the mob and back to my car. I had dropped my umbrella somewhere in my journey to join Matty's mom by the grave, so I was left exposed to the freezing rain that viciously pelted me with the gusting wind.

  I wrapped my arms tightly around my stomach and tried to escape as quickly as I possibly could. My heels repeatedly sunk into the wet sod, eventually leaving me with no choice but to take them off or suffer a sprained ankle. My black-stockinged feet were frozen instantly, causing me to break into a jog through the centuries-old headstones, barely able to see through the veil of precipitation around me.

  Once I located the entrance gates, I started to run full out, but I was no longer just running from the elements. I was running from Matty and the emptiness I felt without him.

  In a flash, I was no longer running at all. Instead, I was sprawled out on the concrete walkway, hosiery torn, coat ripped, knees and hands bleeding. In my haste, I had overlooked a small grave marker, snagging my toe on it. It was a classic Ruby move. I hoped that somewhere Matty was having a chuckle at my expense.

  I managed to pry myself off the ground and locate my shoes that had flown through the air during my fall. Soaking wet and completely disheveled, I decided to walk the rest of the way to the car. It seemed the safest game plan.

  As I approached the gates, I heard a voice calling my name behind me. I turned to see Matty's mother, Carmen, hurrying carefully towards me. My heart sank instantly. Offering her support was one thing, having to face her directly was another. Even in my frozen condition, I could feel the sweat bead along my neck, rolling slowly into the back of my black cashmere sweater-dress.

  “Ruby!” she called one last time before I acknowledged her.

  “Carmen...,” I started, unsure of what to say. “I'm...I'm so sorry.”

  That was all it took. I choked on the last word, unable to speak further.

  “I know, Ruby,” she said, pulling me into a crushing hug. “My baby's gone. He's gone. But you're still here...Matty would be so happy to know you're all right. ” Her sobs came violently, body convulsing with the purging emotions. “My girls are all I have left now,” she eventually added after gaining some amount of composure. “How did this happen?

  How could somebody take my Matty from me? From you?” she asked, her eyes searching mine wildly for answers.

  I felt faint, thinking that I was going to pass out for certain, right there in front of her. I had the answers she sought.

  “He loved you, Ruby. More than you probably even knew,” she said softly. “You were all he talked about from the moment you walked into that first class with the company. He marveled at everything about you for the longest time. We joked that he had a crush on you, which seemed to be exactly what it was in the beginning, but then something changed. It became more than a fascination with somebody who was more together than the girls he'd dated in the past; he knew you two were right for each other. After your first performance together, he came home and told us all that he had found the girl he was going to marry one day. She just didn't know it yet...”

  She took my bleeding hands in hers, her expression becoming far more serious again.

  “The news report said that you couldn't remember anything about that night, Ruby, about what happened to Matty,” she said, moving in dangerously close to my face. I couldn't breathe. I was so afraid of what she was going to say next that I stood frozen. “Regardless of what occurred, I am certain that he would be glad to know that his last moments were spent defending you.”

  My knees weakened, but thanks to my grip on Carmen, I managed to stay upright. I saw the rest of her family off in the distance, headed our direction, and I panicked. Having all of them engulf me was more than I could bear.

  “Carmen, I...I have to go,” I said, choking back a sob.

  “He loved you, Ruby,” she repeated. “Please don't ever forget that.

  He wanted you to be part of our family one day.”

  I tried to pull my hands free, but the middle-aged woman's grip was like a vise. I started to back away, but she resisted, pulling me closer.

  “You are family, Ruby. You have been from the first time we met you,” she said, hugging me one last time. “That's what Matty would want.

  We love you too, Ruby.”

  I tried to return her sentiment, but it came out so strained and strangled that I'm not sure she understood. I didn't stick around long enough to find out, turning to flee the instant she let me go. It took only seconds to break through the entrance gates out onto the sidewalk in my stockinged feet. Momentarily forgetting where I had parked, I scanned the street for the TT, which was virtually useless given the density of the sleet falling rapidly around me.

  Once I determined where I needed to go, I continued running down the street to my car. I needed to get out of the cold, out of the elements, and away from Matty's family before they could unknowingly inflict any more pain.