18.98: An ONC 2023 Thriller

Chapter 12

4 YEARS AGO (JUNE)

Liv existed within a waterfall, horrifying events cascading down around her as she struggled to keep from being sucked into the flow, her body bashed before drowning under the weight of misery.

Her sister, dead. Helina, gone—likely staying at Richie's, not yet ready to face Liv. Liv's mother, checked out as ever, off in Minnesota with her latest loser boyfriend. She had made a great wailing noise on the phone when Liv called to give her the news, slobbering about how awful this was, how she'd already been through so much, and now this: her youngest, dead before her nineteenth birthday.

When Liv asked if she wanted to come to Madison, maybe have some sort of memorial, or at least comfort each other in their mourning, the floodgates closed. That wouldn't be necessary. We mourn in our own way, don't we? Would it bring Penelope back if I came all that way? Besides, Ajax doesn't want to go and he doesn't want me to go either. Excuse after excuse to leave Liv to deal with the aftermath on her own.

Following that conversation, Liv stopped talking to her mom completely, but she didn't stop thinking about what her mother had said. Penelope, dead before her nineteenth birthday. Eight days before, to be precise.

Liv did the math. Her sister had died at 18.98 years old to the day. Her heart, what was left of it, shriveled up like a sun-dried tomato. Those mysterious forces that communicated with her through the ghost frequency were toying with her, and Penelope had died right when they wanted her to, all so they could laugh at Liv.

She stood under a Niagara Falls of grief and in her grief, with her dried-up heart, she placed the blame where it was easiest. Helina. She'd acted selfishly, ignoring warnings, and Pen had paid the price.

She could not be forgiven for this.

Drenched in misery, Liv walked through life. She graduated but didn't go to the ceremony. She was offered a job and accepted it without looking at other options. She had her sister's remains cremated and on what would have been her 19th birthday, eight days after her death, she placed them in a box in her closet.

Two days later, Helina returned to their apartment to pack up her things. "I'm going home to Washington," she told her.

Liv said nothing.

"Richie is going to drive me and my stuff out there. Kind of our last hurrah. I told him I don't want to do a long-distance thing and he said he understands."

Liv got off the couch and walked into her room, closing her door behind her.

"Liv?" Helina knocked on the door, not even giving Liv a minute of peace. With no response from Liv, she talked anyways. "The network shut down contract negotiations. I thought you'd want to know. They said Penelope's death, while a personal tragedy that they're very sorry about, is too recent to play well with audiences—those are their words, not mine. I know what that sounds like. All they care about are how viewers will see the situation. It would look like we were profiting off her death. Which we totally wouldn't be, obviously."

That was what Helina cared about ultimately, then. Her television deal was gone because she'd been stupid enough to get Penelope killed.

Liv's skin grew hot. Her waterfall of grief became a steaming cauldron of rage. She curled her fingers around the metal stem of her floor lamp and imagined smacking Helina in the head with it, her hair sparking when the lightbulbs burst against her skull.

"Are you really not going to say anything to me, Liv? I miss her too, you know."

Liv seethed. How much Helina must miss her! Helina, who had a brother and parents and a whole life to go back to two thousand miles away. Helina, who could forget about Liv and Penelope, and carry on with life without feeling a crushing weight of guilt on her shoulders. She talked about missing Pen, but she'd lost a TV deal first and foremost, whereas Liv had lost the only true family she had left.