My room has stayed the same since I left, the only things gone are the pictures I had of me and Jacob all over my room. I don’t even think about all the times he climbed into my bed after my parents were asleep and just held me. Memories that I locked away and somehow forgot now come crashing back, making it hard for me to breathe. I get up, sitting at the end of the bed, trying to collect my breaths. In through the nose, out through the mouth. I get up and go to my luggage that sits open on the floor, looking like it just exploded everywhere. I refuse to wear any of the clothes I left here. I left them here for a reason, so there is no way I’m going to put them on now. In fact, I’m packing them up tomorrow and taking them to the church so they can give them away.

I pull on my yoga pants and put on a sweater. Sliding open my door, I slowly wait for the creak that used to come when it opened halfway. This time, it doesn’t make any noise as I slip out of my room and go down the stairs. The light in the kitchen is on like always, and a plate of muffins sits on the island right next to the vase of flowers. I walk over to the door and grab my running shoes. After I put them on, I slip out of the door and walk to the barn. I stop and listen for it, waiting to hear a car horn honk or backfire or a siren blaring somewhere, but instead, it’s nothing but crickets. The light from the stars leads me to the barn, and I slide the big metal door open, just like I used to do all those years ago when I couldn’t sleep.

The lights are on dim in each of the stalls as I walk down the concrete path in the middle of the barn. I hear the horses in their stalls as I make my way over to the one I know is mine. Lady Princess is written on the outside of the stall. She comes over to the opening, her brown coat still as bright as when I got her ten years ago. My sweet sixteen present from my father.

“Hey, girl,” I say, holding my hand out to her so she can smell me. She knocks my hand with her nose. “Sorry I left you,” I say, rubbing down her muzzle. “I heard you were pissed.”

“She was.” When I hear that from behind me, I yelp, scaring her and a couple of the other horses.

“Jesus H,” I say. Looking behind me, I find Casey standing there in just jeans with a rifle in his hand. “Casey, what in the fuck?” I shriek.