At the End of the Garden

Chapter Forty-Two

A lot happened over the next couple of days. Fay had a tantrum for starters. She went through a whole pack of cigarettes in one afternoon and made a point of sitting in the living room to do so. When Dad finally stepped up and asked her to stop, she snapped at him about knowing a good divorce lawyer and then decided she was going out. Good riddance.
They'd tried to arrest Victor Quinn the morning Angie changed her statement, but Fay wriggled out if somehow. Something about not having enough evidence from the coat Eden handed over. So, for now, Victor Quinn was still sitting comfortably at home.
Later that day, the police managed to get a warrant to go grave robbing, essentially. After what both me and Angie had told them, they decided to dig up the foundations of the empty shed at the school.
And the best part? It was a school day.

Through the phone, we listened to the distant and morphed sounds of a drill and other machinery in the direction of the too familiar cold box I'd been a prisoner in for a week. Behind, it sounded like a crowd was forming. People were muttering and chatting in the background, likely a group of students wondering why their school was being dug up and yellow police tape was trying to keep them at a distance. Undistracted, the camera man kept a steady hand. He stood as close as his could without crossing the police line. I imagine he also had his hood up, maybe a mask too, so nobody could tell he was a former classmate.
The stream had been going on for about an hour, with phones planned on being swapped in and out to charge for however long this process took. It was Ren's idea. I hadn't heard anything about until she sent me the link this morning. When she told that I wouldn't have to deal with this by myself, she really had meant it. Although, maybe filming this was a bit extreme, I thought. But I suppose humiliating Victor Quinn in front of as wide of an audience as she could get would be therapeutic for her.
The sun was shining above the horrid scene.

An hour and ten minutes into the stream, the digging stopped and all that was left was the confused hum of voices. I recognised a few phrases like 'what's happened?' or 'what is it?'
More police showed up, then finally an ambulance reversed onto the field as if they were about to draw something living from the ground. I still didn't believe in ghosts, but I was hoping that if anything, Luka's spirits could be saved. Or at least the ones of the people that knew her.
Soon enough, they lifted her from the concrete. You couldn't tell unless you knew since what they pulled out looked like just a concrete slab from a distance. The camera knew what it was though. The screen rattled a little when the crane held her up. And to think? All that cocky attitude he had last year about not caring who he upset when he disturbed the peace to get some truth. But Sidney Mathews was shaken up by his foster-sister's sick grave.
Not just him. Someone else knew what lay in the concrete. A cry from somewhere behind the camera shot into the ears of everyone in range to hear. Without hesitation, Sidney spun around, camera still with him, to view a women who had just fallen to her knees.
I didn't recognise her, I probably should have though. But it became clear who it was when Sidney shoved the phone into the hands of the nearest bystander and told them to keep filming. They did as told, but just not in the right direction. The camera lingered on Sidney as he rushed to kneel down in front of the woman who now had her head in her hands.
First he lowered his hood and muttered, "hey... it's me."
He seemed nervous just to touch her shoulder, but eventually found the courage. Only then did she bring herself to look up.
"I'm sorry." Sidney told her.
The woman seemed to be experiencing every emotion at once.
"Sidney?" She asked, conflicted.
He nodded. If the woman (like me) had been mad at him for leaving or even if she was just confused, she ignored it and let herself be comforted. When Sidney opened his arms, Luka's mum threw herself into his shoulder. I couldn't even begin to imagine what it must have been like for one child to return to you, while you got the conformation that another was gone forever.
It took Sidney a couple of second to notice that the camera was still on him.
"Film that!" He snapped, pointed with his free arm to the shed. The camera quickly moved.
By the time we could see again, they were lowering the concrete onto the ground and getting ready to move Luka into the ambulance. But I think the image of the mourning mother would last longer in our minds.