Queen of the Wood ✅

18 - A Strange Visit

After a few days of being cooped up at home, I was going crazy.

It was a strange feeling since I normally wanted nothing more than to stay home all day and avoid contact with everyone. But with Dad at the clinic and Brett working with his father, I was left in the big, old house on my own, becoming increasingly restless.

I could only watch so much daytime TV and read so many books. I supposed I should have been packing up my grandmother's things - one of the very things I had come home to do - but I couldn't bring myself to get started. Going through her belongings didn't feel right, especially without Dad around.

There was a rather long list of things I could have been working on now that I thought about it. But of course, my thoughts focused solely on the upcoming party and how I would get information from Maggie.

Finally, I couldn't take it anymore.

I grabbed the keys to Grams' car and left, driving the dirt roads until I found myself at the country cemetery. I stood at the gate briefly, my eyes boring into the fresh grave covered in wilting flowers. Taking a deep breath, I pushed the gate open and made my way down the path toward my grandparents' graves.

Once seated in front of the stone with my grandparents' names carved into it, a tear slipped out.

"Hey, Grams."

I glanced around, feeling weird speaking out loud, even though I was completely alone, and this was what you were supposed to do at a cemetery.

"Doesn't feel the same without you," I said, looking down at the grave. "The house is... really quiet."

I sat there, waiting for something. Maybe to hear Grams' voice in my head. Or from the beyond - I wasn't sure. But there was nothing but the gentle breeze.

"I... I don't know what I'm doing," I finally groaned, dropping my face into my hands. "Brett thinks we can find out what happened to Maeve."

I looked up at the flowers, imagining my grandmother cackling right now. First, she'd be thrilled that I was spending time with Brett. She'd then be absolutely entertained by the idea that we fancied ourselves investigators. Grams always was a fan of Dateline and 48 Hours.

"I mean, maybe it could help me to let go and move on. And I do want to know more about that night. But... I don't know. Maybe finding out will do more harm than good..."

That's ridiculous.

"But is it? I'm not a detective. I'm just... I don't know what I am. A failure. A recluse. I don't like talking to people and have panic attacks at parties. Now I'm going to Stephanie Fucking Walker's house to interrogate people. At a party."

Language, darlin'.

"Like you never swore," I scoffed. I looked around the cemetery again, taking in the expansive blue sky and rolling hills. "I... I don't know if I can do this."

Ya need to move on, Aisling.

I stared at the flowers, feeling the tears well up. I did need to move on. But was this really the way?

Those fancy doctors didn't help ya. Maybe this is how ya help yerself, darlin'.

That was a point. Nothing up to now had worked. All it had done was make me fixate on that night even more. I supposed I had two options.

I could drop it and continue to wallow. Or continue and maybe find closure. Or make things worse. Either way, I wouldn't know until I tried. And I supposed I did need to, at the very least, try.

Wiping my cheeks, I looked up at the sky, took a deep breath, and slowly let it out.

"Maeve? I... I don't know if you're out there... somewhere, but... I'm sorry," I said, my voice cracking. "I'm sorry I didn't help you. I'm sorry I didn't stop it from happening... whatever it was... I... I let you down. You've always been there for me - protecting me - and when the time came, I... I failed to protect you."