STRANGERS ♱ yellowjackets

43. a house in nebraska

NATALIE'S KNUCKLES TURN WHITE AS SHE SQUEEZES THE WHEEL.

The engine hums softly as they drive back toward the wellness center, but Natalie's mind is anything but quiet. She is so shocked still that she completely forgot about her plan to escape. She grips the steering wheel, still reeling from the day's events, her thoughts circling around the revelation she can't quite believe: Sadie is PJ's and Charlotte's daughter. Bunny's niece. The weight of it presses on her chest, an ache she hasn't felt in years. Natalie had tried to bury the memory of Bunny very deep within herself, but now the memories are clawing their way back to the surface, raw, sicking and bitter. She didn't know if she could survive the memory of her, but a part of her wanted to try. Oh, how she wanted to bend under the weight that was remembering the girl she loved.

Next to her, Sadie is quiet, staring out the window as the trees blur past. Then, almost as if she can sense the sadness radiating off Natalie, the girl speaks.

"Can you tell me about Susan?" Sadie's voice is soft, tentative, but there's a curiosity there that cuts through Natalie's haze of confusion.

Natalie stiffens, her hands tightening around the steering wheel. The name is like a jolt to her system. To her she will always be Bunny, but Sadie doesn't use the nickname. Susan. The name tastes weird on Natalie's tongue.

"My dad doesn't really talk about her," Sadie continues, her voice almost apologetic. "They weren't that close before she died, I guess. And my mom..." she trails off for a moment, her small hands fiddling with the hem of her dress. "She gets kind of weird when I bring her up. Almost sick."

Natalie's throat tightens at that. Of course Charlotte can't talk about Bunny. How could she, when she had front-row seats to the tragedy that followed her death?

The silence stretches, thick and heavy, and Natalie feels the girl's eyes on her. Sadie's waiting. Finally, Natalie lets out a long breath, her voice barely audible over the hum of the car. "What do you want to know?"

"Everything," Sadie says simply, with a kind of quiet determination that leaves Natalie with no room to escape. The word lands heavily, making Natalie feel like she's stepping into a place she's long avoided.

At first, she doesn't know where to start. Her words come out awkwardly, like she's testing the waters of a river she hasn't waded into in years. "Well... Bunny was... she was different. Smart, but not in an obvious way. Funny. She had this laugh that would fill a room and make everyone else laugh, even if they didn't know why." Natalie chuckles softly, more to herself than to Sadie. The sound of Bunny's laugh echoes in her mind like a ghost, tugging at something deep inside her.

As she continues, Natalie finds herself slipping deeper into the memories. The hesitance in her voice fades as she talks about Bunny's love for details and dinosaurs, and the way she used to wear oversized shirts she stole from PJ, and how she always seemed a little too big for the small town they grew up in.

Natalie exhales slowly, her mind sifting through the layers of memories. Bunny was a presence that never quite left her, even in the silence, even in the years that stretched between them. The road hums beneath the car, and Natalie speaks again, softer now, as if the weight of these memories needs to be handled gently.

"Bunny... she loved everyone," Natalie continues, glancing sideways at Sadie. "She had this way of making you feel seen, like you were the most important person in the room. I think that's what I miss the most. Her empathy. She just... got people, you know?"

Sadie listens quietly, her wide brown eyes focused on Natalie, absorbing every word like they're precious. The child's silence almost urges Natalie to keep going.