sunburn - rafe cameron (outerbanks)

7 - the empty chair

chapter 7
the empty chair

it had been two weeks since maddie went missing, and angie felt as if the world had shifted without warning. the house was quieter now, but not in the peaceful way she once enjoyed. this silence was suffocating, like an unwelcome stranger that had settled into their lives, pressing down on everything, forcing angie to acknowledge it at every turn.

angie had never experienced loss before, not like this. she had heard of grief, of course—from friends who had lost grandparents or distant relatives—but nothing had ever hit home. until now. until maddie. her sister wasn't just family, she was her best friend, her partner in crime, the one person who understood her in ways no one else could. and now she was gone. not dead—at least, that's what angie kept telling herself—but disappeared. vanished. like a dream that slips away the moment you wake up. here one moment, gone the next.

the past two weeks had been a blur of sympathy and useless comfort. her friends had come by with flowers and cards, awkwardly offering their condolences like they were visiting a funeral. it made angie furious, though she could barely summon the energy to argue with them. maddie wasn't dead. why were they acting like she was? why was everyone treating this like an inevitable loss, like she would never come back? angie could still feel her sister's presence in the house, hear her laugh in the empty rooms if she let her mind wander long enough. maddie wasn't dead. she couldn't be. she wouldn't leave her behind.

the truth was harder to ignore with each passing day. the police had searched—if you could call a three-day effort a proper search. they combed through the woods, interviewed friends, even sent out a boat in case maddie had fallen into the marshes. it was a "decent job," or at least that's what sheriff shoupe had called it, but it had ended as quickly as it started when the storm rolled in, drenching the island and halting any further efforts. the storm had passed, but the search never resumed with the same urgency. it was like maddie had slipped through their fingers, just another lost soul swallowed by the island.

Angie hated it—the platitudes, the pitying looks, the gnawing ache in her chest that never seemed to go away. it didn't matter how much she distracted herself, how many times she replayed that night in her head, looking for something she might have missed. maddie was still gone, and no amount of logic or reasoning could change that.

the house felt emptier every day. regina, their mother, tried to hold it together for angie and her husband, but the cracks were showing. she spent hours sitting in maddie's room, staring at the unmade bed like maddie might walk through the door at any moment. angie would find her there sometimes, and they would sit together in silence, neither of them knowing what to say, both afraid to break the fragile stillness between them. their father barely spoke anymore, retreating into himself, as if silence could shield him from the pain.

and then there was the knock on the door that afternoon. angie knew it was the police before she even saw them. the sound was heavier, more deliberate, as if the weight of their news could be felt even through the wood of the front door. sheriff shoupe and deputy peterkin stood on the porch, their faces lined with the strain of what they were about to say. angie's heart sank. this wasn't good. this wasn't an update that would bring maddie home.

they sat together in the living room, the five of them—her parents on the couch, angie perched on the edge of an armchair, feeling like an outsider in her own home. the air was thick with tension, the unspoken weight of maddie's absence hanging over them all. sheriff shoupe shifted in his seat, clearing his throat awkwardly as if he were about to break some sort of fragile spell.

"we've been tracking all of maddie's credit card transactions from the past three months, to see if there were any indicators." he began, his voice softer than usual, the usual bravado replaced by something more cautious. angie leaned forward, her heart pounding in her chest. maybe this was it. maybe they had found something. maybe maddie was out there, somewhere, just waiting for them to find her.