LANA
At school, Tina Rogers' name still floated in the air like an echo no one could ignore. Her death was the recurring topic in the hallways, in furtive glances, in poorly contained sighs. Everyone had seen the reports on the news: the parents' statement; the pain their eyes couldn't hide; the town's condolences; the official promises to take action against wild animals and areas considered dangerous. The park, of course, was now one of them.
The police, however, remained silent about the exact cause of death. And Lana suspected that the truth, if they knew it, would remain buried.
She stood in front of Tina's locker, where wilted flowers and notes written with smudged ink accumulated like an improvised altar. A touching gesture, yes, but profoundly insufficient.
Tina wasn't the first. That year, tragedy seemed to have a preference for Forks students. Lana remembered Kelly Wayman, who disappeared right before summer break, also presumably a victim of an animal attack. And the missing hikers, whose names now adorned faded posters taped to light poles.
—It's a cursed year for Forks—Morgan murmured, joining Lana. Her crossed arms and fixed gaze on the locker made it clear this wasn't just a casual opinion.
—It's depressing—Quinn protested, wrinkling her nose—Let's talk about something else.
According to her, the best way to deal with something sad was to ignore it completely.
But Lana couldn't. Or at least, not entirely. She tried to divert her attention to the Chemistry exam coming up, to the History paper due the following week, to anything... but all it took was someone mentioning the case for her mind to return, inexorably, to the same point.
Lana had been at that park on the same day of the disappearance.
It could have been her.
It could be her face appearing on television now or on the school walls, framed between candles and cheap flowers. With the difference that, probably, the only ones who would truly mourn her absence would be Morgan and Quinn- and maybe Gracie Lou.
The thought sent a chill down her spine.
So since she couldn't forget it, what she did was keep quiet.
The next morning, after a night of insomnia and tossing in bed, she put on her headphones, tightened her shoelaces, and went out for a run. She wanted to clear her head.
She didn't succeed.
Every step brought her closer to images of Tina: the muddy shoe, the open and vacant eyes, the blue-tinged, lifeless skin.
And suddenly she ended up at the park. It wasn't really a surprise. She used to take her little sister Gracie there all the time. Her legs guided her by inertia.
The place was cordoned off with police tape, as if that were enough to keep danger away. Or the truth.
Without thinking too much, Lana crouched and slipped underneath. She knew it was forbidden. She didn't care.
The only sound was the creak of swings swaying in the wind.
Everything seemed more exposed, more vulnerable. As if the park itself were in a state of shock.
A premonition scratched at her stomach and she decided to leave. However, the whole thing was making noise inside her, and without quite knowing why, she ended up at the Port Angeles library, browsing books about bears and other wild animals.
She took frantic notes on her phone: mating seasons, eating habits, hibernation cycles. Until a page made her frown: Wolves.
For some reason, she hadn't considered them. But they were a terrifying possibility. Maybe even more likely than bears.
When she finally got home, she was carrying more information than she expected to find. She hoped to relax for a while on the couch.
She was wrong.
—Hello, Lana.
She looked up. In the living room, sitting on the couch next to her mother, was Raymond Sawyer.
Raymond had been her sister Kate's boyfriend for two years, and Lana had never liked him. Her radar with guys was pretty good, and from the first moment she knew something about him didn't fit. He was the epitome of the perfect man: tall, athletic, blue eyes, golden hair, a smile that could light up a room. But all it took was one look at his eyes for Lana to feel a knot in her stomach.
The more time she spent with him, more he set her on edge.
—What are you doing here?—Lana spat, with evident annoyance.
—Don't be rude. Raymond offered to fix the car you damaged. You should be more grateful.
—It's fine, Susan— he intervened, with his impeccable smile—She's just having a bad day, right?
She hated when he used that condescending tone, like he was the reasonable adult dealing with an impulsive child. His voice was soft, but behind it hid a mute threat. A reminder that he could be charming with everyone... and still make you feel uncomfortable without moving a muscle.
Lana felt her skin crawl. She wanted to say something else, something biting or sharp, but she knew her mother wouldn't allow it.
—I'm going to my room.
As she walked away, she felt Raymond's gaze glued to her back. She didn't see it, but she knew it. His eyes were like lead, sticking to her. She knew he was enjoying this small victory.
From the stairs, she heard her mother sigh. Raymond said something in a low voice she couldn't catch, and then they laughed. They laughed. And that was what bothered her the most.
●●●
Lana could read about wild animals and terrifying stories, but none caused her as much dread as Raymond Sawyer. She had tried talking to her sister about him, but Kate lived in a constant state of denial. Kate would be much better off without him, of that she had no doubt. She wondered how it was possible that she had latched onto such a person from the very beginning. Because that guy was scary. Scarier than any animal.
To her bad luck, Raymond spent the night at the house, in the guest room. Another night Lana couldn't sleep a wink. Not even with the deadbolt on. When she went down for breakfast, he was already there, as if he were waiting for her.
—Good morning— he said. But Lana just observed him without returning the greeting—. Today I'll go to the shop for the car, just need to change the spare tire and oil it a bit. It'll be ready by afternoon.
—Fine— she answered, trying to escape from there.
—Did I do something to upset you?—he asked, managing to make her stop and turn around.
—Why do you ask?
He leaned back in the chair.
—You keep treating me badly. Maybe you just don't trust me.
—And why should I trust you? I don't even know you.
—Well, if you stopped pushing me away, maybe you'd get to know me— Raymond straightened up, approaching her, little by little—. But don't worry, I understand. You're that kind of person...
Lana was burning with rage and fear, but remained impassive in front of him.
—Oh, really? And what kind of person is that?
—The kind who judges openly without knowing others.— Without warning, he took a step toward her, wrapping his arm around her shoulders— Don't worry, I don't care how you want to live your life or any of that, but since I'm going to be here for a long time I think... we should get to know each other better. —He squeezed, pulling her closer to him.
—I'm not interested in knowing you. — Lana said through her teeth, before pushing him away.
He stayed in his place. She knew Raymond was enjoying this.
—I said let me go. —she bellowed, breaking free from his grip. He raised his hands up high.
—I was just trying to be friendly. — he defended himself.
Lana narrowed her eyes while thinking "Yeah, sure." She didn't know where she got the courage from, but she approached him and looked at him threateningly before warning:
—I don't know what your plans are with my sister, or what you did to win her over. But let this be clear: you don't please me, and I don't trust you either. So I'll be watching you, you hear me?
—Ooh, scary— he mocked—And what are you going to do? Throw one of your designer shoes at me?—he provoked.
Lana wasn't surprised by his response because she knew Raymond was letting his true self show. He looked over his shoulder.
—Good morning, sweetheart.—He approached Mary Kate and kissed her on the lips. Her sister smiled.
—Good morning. What were you talking about?—she asked. Lana crossed her arms without removing her hateful expression.
—Just getting to know each other a little, right, Lana?—he looked at her. With that dark smile. She returned the hypocritical smile.
—Completely.