Page 107

Staring down at it, I frown.

Bryn: Who is this?

Unknown: Meet me at Riverside park at 12

I glance up from my phone, instinctively looking around the street, as if the sender might be standing nearby. Who would text me from an unknown number? A thought creeps in before I can stop it.

Ash?

My heart races, but just as quickly as the idea formed, I try to shake it away. That doesn’t make sense. If Ash wanted to see me, he wouldn’t do it like this. He wouldn’t hide behind an anonymous message. He would just show up and stand there with that quiet certainty in his eyes, like he always does.

Still, the thought lingers in my mind. Who else could it be? I stare down at the message again, a knot tightening in my chest. It could be anyone. It could be someone messing with me, but who would be bothered? My thumb hovers over the screen, ready to delete the message, but it doesn’t move.

What if it’s him?

The thought remains, quiet but persistent. I tell myself it’s ridiculous, that Ash wouldn’t do this, wouldn’t need to. A question hits me, making my stomach twist in a way that makes me feel nauseous. What if someone knows? What if they know what Ash did, and now they know that I know? My mind spirals, looping through possibilities faster than I can process them. Could it be someone trying to warn me about him? To see what I know? Could they want to scare me?

I swallow, my throat dry, my fingers trembling slightly around my phone. I should ignore the message, block the number and pretend I never saw it, but if I don’t go, I’ll never know. I know myself well enough to understand what that means. The questions will scratch at the back of my mind, growing louder and more annoying as time goes on. I won’t be able to let them go. I’ve never been good at walking away from something unfinished.

I exhale. They want to meet in a public place, and it’s the middle of the day. There’ll be people around. Surely I’ll be safe enough. That’s what I tell myself, anyway.

Noon feels like it takes forever to come around and when it’s finally almost time, I leave the house. My steps feel heavy as I make my way to the park, my stomach fluttering with a mix of fear and anticipation. The park is quiet, and sunlight spills over the playground and benches. I hear kids laughing faintly in the distance.

My heart plummets to my stomach when I see her.

She’s nothing like the sister I remember, but I recognise her instantly. Her hair falls in soft waves, but it’s lighter now, and her eyes hold a calm I’ve never seen before. I stop a few feet away, unsure if I should run to her or away.

‘Bryn,’ she says softly.

‘I … I can’t believe it’s you,’ I whisper.

We sit on the bench together. Words tumble out slowly at first, then faster as the years of silence and misunderstanding unravel between us. I tell her about everything: moving away, the life I’ve built, the shadows that followed me. She listens quietly and I realise how much I’ve missed her, despite the fact we didn’t get along in those final months living together. There was once a time when we were everything to each other, and I miss that more than words can say.

She tells me the same story Ash did. After she ran away from the hospital, she reached out to him. She was terrified Grant would move on to me next, and she hoped Ash would take care of it in the way she knew he could. She understood him in a way I didn’t back then. She saw him for what he was from the very beginning and knew what he was willing to do for me. Then she disappeared. In the years that followed, she spent a long time in therapy, working through everything and trying to heal. Now, she finally feels ready to face pieces of her old life again.

She just … vanished. One minute we were waiting for updates, and the next she was gone.

‘What happened after you left?’ I ask softly. ‘Where did you go?’

Isla looks down at her lap for a second before answering. ‘All over the place. I stayed with a women’s support program for a while.’

‘Did Ash know where you were?’

‘No, but he knew I was safe. Eventually I made it to Melbourne and stayed there for a few years, but I moved back up here about a month or so ago. I live about an hour from here. I do social and youth work now.’

I blink slowly, trying to process everything. Somehow it hurts worse, knowing she built an entire life while the version of her in my head stayed frozen at seventeen. And now, knowing she’s been living so close by.

‘Why reach out now?’

‘Because of Ash.’ I wait for the familiar, stabbing jealousy to slice through me, but it never comes, because I know better now. Nothing was as it seemed. ‘He messaged me.’

‘What did he say?’

‘“Hope you’re doing okay. Bryn knows everything now.” I didn’t answer at first,’ she admits. ‘But I couldn’t stop thinking about it. About you knowing, what that must’ve been like, and how you must have been feeling. I spent so many years trying to survive what happened that I never stopped to think about what disappearing might’ve done to you.’

I don’t know what to say to that, because part of me wants to cry, and another part wants to ask why she never trusted me enough to take me with her. I want to ask why she never confided in me or asked for my help. Realistically, I know she couldn’t have taken me, but that doesn’t stop me wondering.

‘Why didn’t you tell me?’