Chasing Innocence | ✓

16 | unfavourable requests

There's only so many speeches you can give to a rotted corpse. Or more likely a skeleton now.

I stand in silence, staring at the moss seeping over her name. There's a large crack running down the length of the grave. It separates her first name from her last. I wonder if that brings her a small amount of satisfaction. I hope it does.

It's beginning to rain; small drops landing against the arched cement. My dry eyes follow the water as it finds its way through the cracked headstone.

I remember that she always said she wanted to be cremated. That when death came knocking, she wanted to be thrown to the wind, somewhere in the midst of the ocean. I hadn't been in the right frame of mind to organise a funeral at fifteen. It had been left up to my brother who didn't even attend.

I stare at her burial sight, wondering what she'd think now. No doubt she'd be disappointed in a lot of things that has occurred. I can imagine her scowling the way she used to, but somehow unable to stop her bright smile.

Today marks an anniversary I'd rather forget.

My phone begins to vibrate in the palm of my hand. I look down, finding Davina's contact. "Hello?"

"Hi Rhea, I've scheduled another meeting in two days with Braxton—"

"I won't be able to attend," I state, her name blurring on the headstone.

"You'll be missing another meeting?"

Since the party, I haven't been able to find the ability to be in the same room as Brax. He'd used my past — the minimal amount that he's assumed — and turned it into something nasty. He used it against me in a way that feels unforgivable.

"Yes, unfortunately," I clear my throat. "I've still got this nasty cold and it's just not something I'd want to—"

"Is the case becoming too much, Rhea?"

Her words stump me. I go to speak, but it's as though my tongue has forgotten how to work.

"Because you know that I'll understand. This is the entire point of having an intern. I need them to understand the hard work and dedication that goes into this. If you can't—"

"I'll be there," I state. "It's in two days, I'm sure I'll be better by then."

"Great," Davina says. "I'll see you then."

She hangs up before I can respond. My knuckles turn white as I pull my hand away from my ear, pocketing my phone.

I close my eyes, breathing deeply. Images of Brax's cold stare consume me, the way he'd stood void of emotion after throwing my attempted suicide back in my face like it meant nothing.

"Don't mean to interrupt—"

I gasp, whirling around as I frown at the stranger to my left. His brown hair is stuck to his forehead; rain dripping off strands as he smiles sheepishly. His dark eyes blink slowly at me as he raises his hands out in surrender.

"I mean no harm, Rhea."

My stomach sinks. "Who are you?" I ask, breathless. "Am I supposed to know you?"

I frown, unsure of why he seems so familiar to me. He almost looks exactly like Braxton, but I curl my hands into fists, sure that my mind is playing tricks on me now.