Dead of Eve Read Online Free PDF Page B

home at Pomme de Terre Lake was a three hour drive. It was isolated. On a lake. Easier to defend. Safer.
    His hand reached for mine and he pulled me to my feet.

    We wouldn’t leave without securing the house we worked so hard to make our home. We hoped to return someday. Neither of us spoke as we labored through the night, packing and boarding up vulnerable entry points.
    In the early morning, I stood at the kitchen window and watched the rain splash on the surface of the pool. Joel leaned a piece of plywood against the wall and waited for me to move. Only one window left to board up.
    I stepped out of the way. “What still needs to be loaded in the Rubicon?”
    He lifted the board and set it in place. “Did you get the last of the winter clothes?”
    “Yeah. Just the clothes from our closet.”
    His eyes darted to the top of the stairs. We stored most of our seasonal clothing in the upstairs attic, but neither of us would go up there.
    “You know we’ll need to say good-bye to their rooms,” I said. “To their things.”
    He looked away and screwed the board in place. A chill raced down my spine. I knew if I didn’t go up there, I’d never have closure.
    He sank the last screw and leaned against the board. “I know.” Dark circles bruised his eyes. We didn’t talk about the previous night. Just like we never talked about that final night with our A’s. When Annie took her last breath, somehow I found my feet and walked out. I slid into our bed and into my abyss for two months. I shouldn’t have left him to deal with their bodies alone. I knew the mortuaries turned him away. Too many dead bodies. Too much fear of contagion. But I stayed in bed, lured by the dark edges of my depression.
    My throat tightened. I backed away from his downcast eyes. His voice echoed on a distant plane. “Don’t do this. Don’t sink back to that place again.”
    He cremated our babies in the backyard. I remembered the vista from my bed and the smoke that hovered over the deck for hours like a Thanatos taunting. An embodiment of death.
    My heart pummeled at my rib cage as if it wanted out. The throwing knives Joel gave me a few years earlier could quiet it. I fantasized piercing the thumping thing in my chest with the six inches of high carbon steel. With the right angle of the blade between two ribs, I would push hard and fast on the handle.
    “Evie. Stop this goddammit. We grieved in different ways. And doing it alone was our way.” He gripped my shoulders and forced me to look at him.
    I pushed a syllable past the lump in my throat. “‘kay.” I hated that my voice sounded so weak.
    He tugged me to his chest and rested his lips on the top of my head. “So you’re going to pull your shit together. Then we’re going to go up there and say good-bye. Then Evie?” He fastened me with his eyes, held me there. “We are not going to look back.”
    His arms dropped and he stalked out of the room.

    I clutched the railing at the bottom of the stairs and steeled myself for the rooms above. Remembered images flooded in. Hand painted grass stretched to a cotton cloud sky and brightened the walls in Annie’s room. Sparkling butterflies dangled from the ceiling and her four post bed animated the room with grace and charm, mirroring her spirit. Aaron’s room was a dark contrast, with the walls and ceiling painted black. The top half of a crater covered moon peeked up from the floor and devoured an entire wall. Glow-in-the-dark paint glazed the surfaces, illuminating it at night.
    Viewing their rooms for real turned my stomach over in violent waves. I rubbed a bead of sweat from my forehead and jumped when Joel touched my back.
    “Are you ready?” His voice was thready.
    I interlaced my fingers with his and squeezed. We looked up and began our ascent. I focused on cheerful memories like the A’s garland-draped balcony at Christmas. They would hide on the landing and spy on Santa below, who was Joel and two pillows stuffed in a