Chapter 48

Shockingly, when we got to the station and looked through the tapes, a woman showed up on the screen leaving the locker room. I know, with my luck, I figured there would be nothing. However, only the back of her was visible. The other cameras, including the ones that would have gotten her face or even the ones pointing at the parking lot, mysteriously were unavailable. Which to me seemed very unlikely. That's all the sheriff said: that these few tapes were the only ones available and the others - the ones that would have validated my word - were not available.

Now, it was the moment I never though I would witness, one too great for an unlucky girl like me. But I saw his face when his innocent eyes reached the cameras and couldn't process what he saw. His heart was cracking as it was. Now, I watched it completely shatter when he took in the footage the cameras captured. His lips parted, breath heavy and face as pale as the moon. He looked sick. Luke appeared as if he could have died at that moment, right then and there. He saw the similarities between his wife and the fuzzy picture on the screen. We couldn't see the face. But the height, the shape of her body, the way she walked and carried herself.... I could tell it was Clare; it's hard to see but you could tell it was her. And I think Luke saw what I did: Clare.

My whole life... I've been waiting and hoping a day would come where I would see such an expression. One of realization. One of shock and hurt - absolute hurt and pain. Looking hard at Luke's face, his expressions, I saw that that day may just be here. I wanted to cry of joy when I saw his eyes widen, his jaw slack, his heart shatter. Though I loved the man and hated to see him in pain, he needed to see this, that I was right. This needed to break his heart and make him open his eyes. That was happening.

In those few seconds, he was off guard. I saw it all as he watched the screen. At first, his eyebrows were lowered, squinting at the screen to hopefully get a better look at who my attacker was. My eyes trained on him, I then saw something that made my heart spin and cringe. His face went blank, of all emotions. He was seeing her... as he could only stare for that little second. The color slowly drained from his face and a recognizable expression returned: agony and disbelief. I watched his breath pick up and he looked ready to vomit; his eyes refused to leave the screen, as if begging for it to not be true.

I once told Luke that one day he would see I was right and he wouldn't forgive himself. I honestly wasn't sure if that day would ever come but if it did, I knew I would have taken satisfaction to him realizing how much pain he let be inflicted upon me. I figured I would be happy to see him so upset, so lost for the fact that he didn't believe me before. This was what he deserved for not believing me: agony and pain over what he let go on for so long.

Yet, as I watched his face and his heart fall, his whole life crumble, I felt his pain. I couldn't be any more relieved, the fact that he came to that realization that it was her. But I knew, with the kind of guy he was, he wouldn't get over this. He wouldn't get over the fact that he married a woman so cruel, so evil. He wouldn't get over that he didn't see it before, that he didn't listen to me. Or that I even told him and he ignored me, that he was scared and therefore, closed his eyes to the truth. He wouldn't get over this, and especially because he was a cop and he should have seen it, should have at least questioned it more. He would hate himself, knowing that everything I said was true. That she tortured me in such cruel ways, that she killed my little sister, that she would do the same if they had a child and he left her.

The disgust grew across his face. Not over Clare or the things she did right now. But disgust aimed at himself. He started to shake his head, eyes closing tightly for that long moment. He swallowed and when he did open his eyes, they met mine. I never saw such a look aimed at me. One so sorry, so full of pain, and so hurt. He was looking at me for the first time as a sane individual, one that wasn't lying, one that went through all those terrible things in reality, his same reality. He didn't want to believe it, that he was wrong. That I was sane and Clare was crazy. He didn't want to believe it, and I found out later, for more reasons than one.

"It... it's possible it could be someone else," he said in such a quiet, broken voice. His voice was shaking just like his entire body was. The green in his eyes only barely held onto reality, the rest of him was lost it seemed.

My stomach twisted at his words, still of denying the truth that he knew was in fact the truth. "Really? Along with everything you know is true, all those scary coincidences, you still refuse to acknowledge that you know I am right." I shook my head at him before I yelled at him. "The balls you have, you selfish prick!"

He looked down and away from me, his breath shallow and his arm held around himself, as if trying to keep himself up. As if he wanted to collapse on the floor and die right there. He felt sick, which was clear. He ran his other hand through his hair, shaky.

Without another word but a whimper, he quickly made his way out of the room near the sheriff's office. Watching his retreating form, I figured he was going to the bathroom to throw up. But when I walked out to see where he was heading, I saw him swiftly move towards the front doors of the building. Pushing them open, he left the building. Naturally I followed after, honestly concerned for him and hoping he will accept and admit what he saw. He needed to accept it. He had to.

Walking out and into the bright day, I looked around for him. It wasn't hard to find him. He was sitting on the front steps of the building, his head buried in his hands and looking down at him, I saw his body move with the hard and deep breaths he was making, which was also audible. Last night came back into my mind of Luke sitting on the back deck, drinking. Only now, he didn't have beer and I bet more than anything, he wanted alcohol. Because now, he knew I was right. He knew it. Yeah, I'd be on the way to the bar if I were him.

"Luke," I said, my voice surprisingly breaking. I didn't want to have a meltdown like he was having. But how could I not see it as a possibility when he was refusing to cooperate and believe me, with all his heart. He knew, knew I was right. He just needed to accept it.

I walked down the few steps of the building before my feet hit the gravel of the parking lot. I turned around and looked up at him as I stood before his slumped figure, not giving him the chance to ignore me. His head in his hands, elbows on his knees as his feet rested on the step below him, I heard his breath pick up.

"Luke," I said, voice stronger, knowing he heard me. He needed to face this. No matter how hard it was for him, though he couldn't stand himself at the moment, he needed to face the facts.

"I can't believe you." He said in a high broken voice, raising his head. His eyes found mine, piercing mine and I never before saw as much pain as I did now. Such a sorry look, such a disgusted one too.

"But you do believe me. You know I'm right and that you were wrong."

He pursed his lips and shook his head, cringing with his eyebrows lowering in pain and tension. "But... I-I can't...."

"Don't you understand how long I've waited for this? For someone, anyone, to see the truth? And finally, now that you have, you wont face it because you can't handle it? After I've done more than handle a mother that hates me, that has beaten me, and has killed my fucking sister? After I've suffered so much, after I was so humiliated, after being hated by everyone because my mother labeled me to be insane? After having to live with the pain of having nobody, of having no chance to have a decent life, you see the truth. But no, you don't want to take the blame for not seeing something that's always been there. Because you can't take knowing you let me suffer and it was your fault. That's obviously much more important - your dignity - than my fucking life!"

I didn't realize that I was now shaking, my voice cracking and my breath so hard, it mixed with the sound of his. Besides that, after I spoke, there was nothing but silence between us. His eyes never left mine and with every word that left my mouth, every second that passed, his eyes grew darker and more disturbed.

"It's more than my dignity," he said quietly, dying eyes never leaving mine. "I believe you! Is that what you to hear? I do, for Christ's sake! I just..." He shook his head. "Can't accept that my wife.... And that you...."

He broke off, and looked away from me, biting his lip in such pain. His mind was lost in his thoughts. I understood. It wasn't that he wasn't willing to have faith in the truth even if he couldn't stand himself. No, it was the fact that this was all just such a shock to him. He couldn't process all this and didn't know how. He said last night it was a possibility. But looking at him now, it's obvious he didn't think it would be true. It was hitting him hard now.

He was wearing his uniform as since today, he was clearly at work. He looked sharp like he always did. His hair neat and messy at the same time, shining gold in the bright sunlight. He was beautiful. Yet, right now he looked so lost and scared, hurt, and sorry. He looked anything but a professional police officer. He probably felt like anything but one too. As a cop, he failed. He absolutely failed in his eyes for the fact that he lived in the same house as that killer. That killer that was risky and showed her tracks. He knew he had been too human and too blind because it was his wife. He knew that shouldn't be an excuse; he failed and more than that, he knew he failed me.

Looking at him, I could only imagine what he was going through. He was already beyond stressed and upset over debating whether to divorce her based on common relationship issues - changing, not being yourself, growing apart.... This was something entirely different. His wife abused me my whole life, hated me, didn't raise me but let me suffer until I was strong enough to do it myself. She beat me, scarred me for life from all she did to me - the torture of her throwing knives at me, the teasing, being her servant, being the doll of her recognition as the mother of a crazy child. Endless ways for me to suffer. Burning me, locking me away, and the worst of all: taking it out on my sister. She killed me sister and buried her on our property. And now, he realized it wasn't something I made up. It was something that was hidden behind the fake life she showed him, the love he had for her, behind the need to be right and not to be wrong. He was seeing that everything I told him, every way Clare was at fault, was true.

I watched him run that through his head. He revisited everything I ever told him about Clare. I could tell because with every thought, every realization that I was right about something, his face became more pale. His breath increased. He became more pale. Every moment he took to remember all I told him she did, he became more tense. Until he couldn't take it.

He swiftly stood up and before I knew it, he leaned over the railing on the steps and I heard a gargling noise as he threw up over the side, into the bushes. I could only stand there as he gripped the railing harder, releasing that acid from his stomach. By the time he was done, he raised his head back up and was breathing hard, his hands still gripping the railing. And he just... stood there, catching his hard breath. The thing was though, he couldn't catch his breath. He couldn't calm down.

I took a few steps towards him and cautiously stepped up until I reached his side. He was facing off to the side, standing behind the railing and the bushes now full of his vomit. Not saying a word, I quickly headed back inside and towards the bathrooms, grabbing something to wipe his mouth with. I quickly managed to grab a cup of water. All the while, my mind still in a daze when I returned. He was standing there still, eyes lost in the distance of the parking lot.

"Luke," I said softly, moving just beside him. I could only see the side of his face but that was enough to see he was taken over with anger and pain. So much pain. Brushing his arm, I offered him a few paper towels to use. Not meeting my eyes, he turned towards me and took them, wiping his mouth and spitting off into the bushes the terrible taste. I gave him the cup of water and he rinsed his mouth out.

"Come on, sit down," I spoke lightly, worried for him when he was done. I rested my hand on his arm and led him to sit back down on the steps. I followed after and sat next to him. The cup in his hands, I watched the remaining water splash lightly with how much he was shaking still. I took it from him and set it on the step above us.

I watched him carefully, unsure how he was taking now. His words gave me quite a hint. "You gave up on me, didn't you? You didn't think I would ever believe you."

I nodded, telling him the truth. "I told you I had. You were blind and you liked it. Why bother trying to convince you anymore if it was of no use?"

He cringed, eyes moving ahead of him, lost. He pursed his lips and after a moment of silence between us he let out a light moan, full of sorrow. Turning towards him more, I watched him try to hold it together. He was shaking through and slowly, I watched a tear crawl down his cheek. He blinked quickly though, raising a hand and brushing it away before he tried avoiding my eyes again.

"You were right. I was no better than any of those hatred-filled people."

"Yes you were," I said instantly, before I could control my lips. He turned his head towards me, watering eyes meeting mine. And right then, I realized how beautiful of a sight he was. So open, so raw, and so filled with feeling. Those sparkling jade eyes were desperate, were angry, and were sorry - so very sorry. "You are nothing like them. You watched after me, you cared. You might not have believed me but you were still my friend."

"Friends trust each other. And I didn't trust you enough to believe you."

"Yes, you did and you know it! You just forced yourself to ignore your instincts based on what you thought was right."

He swallowed hard, eyes burying in mine and promising never to leave me. "Well, I was wrong. I'm a fucking cop," he said, voice higher. "I'm married to her! I knew her better than everyone. Or so I thought. I was going to start a family with her...." He swallowed hard, shaking his head, disgusted at himself for once actually possessing such a thought. "Not only that, you were there, trying to guide me, pointing to where I needed to look. And I never looked." Shutting his eyes tightly again in pain, he groaned, not believing this was happening. Everything he wanted, all he was fighting for, to stay with her... all down the drain. "Oh fuck," he whispered just under his breath, resting his head back in the palm of his hand. He was still trying to accept all this and I understood; that was so much to handle at once. But the world didn't seem to care or work that way. Other things would interfere.

"Prenta!" I heard a voice yell from inside and obviously towards us. I looked behind us from where we were sitting on the steps to the clear double doors of the police station. I saw a man, a different officer, swiftly open the doors to find us. Lit in the bright sun, I recognized the blond haired man; it was the dumb-ass that interrogated me the night Luke arrested me. He looked down at Luke, who didn't bother to glance behind him or acknowledge anything but his thoughts; his head still rested in his hand and eyes closed. When the dude's eyes met mine, they narrowed and I knew he recognized me.

"Hello, dumb-ass! Remember me?" I growled, not in the mood to be disturbed, especially now. Luke needed to not be bothered by anybody but me. This was huge, even bigger than his work right now.

It was clear he wasn't happy to see me. He was smart enough to know not to call me a crazy bitch in return. His eyes found Luke's back again, staring down at him. Luke groaned, and I glanced towards this tortured man. Without looking up or opening his eyes, he asked him in a monotone voice, "What do you want?"

"It has been reported that Mark was spotted at her high school," he said, glancing to me before returning his eyes to Luke's back again. He looked panicked or rather alert. "We need to go!" He said, running back inside before Luke could answer, clearly in a rush. Hell, with that news, I felt the need to do something too. I looked down at Luke and he let that sink in - faster than he let the news of his wife's true self sink in - and he stared up at me with wide eyes. He was completely frozen in place though for that second, just staring at me. He seemed too shocked to operate.

So was I for that matter though. Mark. Went to my school today. To not only find me, he was there to kill me. I felt my stomach twist. I felt all thoughts regarding Clare and Luke's belief in me leave my head. Because it was clear now: Mark was serious. Before, when he tried to strangle me, I actually debated whether he truly meant to kill me or if it was a crazy thought of the moment. But now, I knew how determined Mark was to kill me. I still haven't figured out why. I knew there was more than just him wanting the money I owed him. He wanted me dead for another reason entirely if it was worth giving up his freedom and life to try to kill me.

And just to think... he could have done it. I should have been at school today. But because of what happened yesterday at school, Luke didn't want to have to worry about me today (especially with how much was on the guys mind). Not to mention, I wanted to be there when he looked at the tapes and I'm glad I was. I needed to be here, to see the possibility that he might believe me. And I was here to see just that. If I was at school, I might not have ever gotten such a chance to ever see Luke again. I could have died if I was at school and he found me there.

I stared back at Luke's wide eyes. Before I could say anything, Luke was on his feet and moving, going back up the steps and towards the front door without a word. I didn't really expect him to be able to do that; to drop what could be perhaps the biggest discussion of my life and his and do his job. But it made sense considering they've been trying with all they had to find him. And after discovering what he just did... well, I bet he wouldn't want to make another mistake at his job.

I heard his breaths didn't slow but rather pick up. Following him, he rushed inside to see a few officers rushing around, fast words exchanged between everyone here. They were deciding who needed to go and who could stay here for such a big job - because this was. And it was a guarantee Luke would be going; it was because of him everyone was after him and through him, and me, there was a connection with Mark. Therefore, he knew what he had to do. He needed to manage to do this after the huge discovery he made - and hopefully by now accepted.