Derailed

Chapter Two

Clayton Falls looked exactly the same as it always did when I turned off the interstate. The old highway leading into town was desolate as usual, and I knew that, without my headlights, I'd be in pitch blackness.

I rolled down my windows and drove through town slowly; I wasn't in the mood to piss off the local police. I probably went to school with half the department. I could already smell the ocean. The thick scent of salt reminded me that I was really back home. I felt a sudden surge of adrenalin. My eyes no longer drooped.

I turned into the new traffic circle, 'new' being a relative term since it had been installed ten years before. Where I came from, anything that hadn't been there when you were born was new. I turned left and drove around the town square. I studied the closed storefronts, wondering if the same people still owned them. It had been years since I'd been back. Yellow-tinted lights illuminated the grassy median, revealing that the graduating class had already gone to work on the statue of our town's founder. With an animal print bikini top, large sunglasses, and a swim cap, the makeover wasn't particularly original, but it was still funny. I passed the square, into a more residential area of town.

With some trepidation, I pulled into the driveway of my childhood home. The dark windows reminded me how empty it was. When I'd called my mom to tell her I was going to stay for a while, she warned me the house might not be in good shape. She hadn't been home in over a year, not since my sister Shayna had her second baby. Parking in the blacktop driveway, I grabbed my purse and one small bag from the passenger seat before heading to the faded yellow front door.

Inserting my key, I pushed open the door, flipping on lights before closing and locking the door behind me. I'd get the rest of my bags in the morning. Even hundreds of miles from Boston, I still had the city security mentality. I'd bet a lot that half my neighbors never bothered to lock their homes. Clayton Falls wasn't exactly a hotbed for crime.

I took the steps two at a time, eager to collapse onto the twin bed of my childhood. Maybe it would be easier to sleep in a bed meant for just one. The nameplate on the door displayed "Molly" in bright pink, still my favorite color. I smiled slightly before pushing open the door.

The pink and blue quilt called to me, and I answered, curling up into a ball with one of my favorite teddy bears. With only the light brown bear to witness, I let out the tears I had held in for the entire drive. The grief wasn't new. Months had passed since Adam died, but it never seemed to get easier. I knew from experience how impossible it was to get over the sudden death of someone you loved. I also knew that I would never escape the guilt that ate away at me every second of every day.

I pulled myself off the bed long enough to unpack my toiletries and went to the small bathroom I used to share with my sister. Just as I got ready to turn on the water for a hot shower, I heard a knock on the front door.

Groaning, I climbed back downstairs. Looking out the front window, I noticed the red Lancer belonging to my childhood best friend in the driveway. Opening the door, I tried to plaster on a smile.

"Molly! Oh my god, it's really you!" Kelly pulled me into a hug, nearly squashing me.

"Kelly, wow. How'd you know I was home? I just got here twenty minutes ago."

"Tom heard a call about a disturbance at your address, and your mom already called to say you were coming, so I put two and two together." Kelly's brown eyes lit up when she mentioned her boyfriend's name. It still seemed funny to me that my former partner in crime was in love with a cop.

"My mom called you?" I wasn't actually surprised; it was just like my mom to go over my head in a misguided attempt to help.

"Yeah, she's obviously worried. Anyway, aren't you going to invite me in?"