Chapter 5
We both knew exactly who he meant by "she." I replied, [She thinks I'm dead.]
The phone fell into another long silence. I could imagine how shocked he must be right now, and how torn.
Harper leaned closer and asked in a low voice, "Can this guy be trusted?"
I looked at that gray profile picture and nodded.
"He was the only one who tried to pull me out during the fire, even though he got dragged away in the end."
His name was Chris Linwood, a child abandoned at Starlight Home just like Sadie had been. He was timid and always got picked on.
But in that darkness, he was the only one who'd ever shown me any kindness.
Back then, Emily went by Emma King.
She wasn't some rich girl. She was the little queen bee of the group home, the one best at gathering people around her.
She led a group to steal our food, tear our books, and treat us like toys she could mess with for fun.
And me, Sadie, was the one she targeted most.
Just because the Director would sometimes praise me for having talent in drawing. That was it.
That alone turned my childhood into scorched earth under her jealousy.
I gave Harper the short version of all that. Her eyes reddened over and over as she listened.
She clutched my hand tightly, her fingertips cold.
"How... how did you survive all these years?"
I smiled, but there wasn't any warmth in it.
"If you keep crawling through the mud, you stay alive somehow.
"I just never expected her to reinvent herself as a huge celebrity everyone worships.
"And then have the nerve to turn the hell we lived through together into some tragic little sob story that belonged to her alone, just to get sympathy.
"Tell me, Harper, isn't that a joke?"
Harper couldn't say a word. She only took my phone and stared at the chat window between me and Chris.
"Will he help you?
"Emily has so much power now. He's just an ordinary guy. Would he really dare step forward and testify?"
That was what worried me too. I didn't want to force Chris.
If he chose to stay silent, I'd understand completely. That memory was a scar none of us could bear to touch.
I typed, [If it's not convenient for you, that's okay.] [I just wanted you to know I'm still alive.]
[All these years, I thought I was the only one who made it out of that fire.]
[Knowing you're still here makes me happy.]
And I meant every word. A tiny bit of light in the middle of hopelessness can soothe a very long night.
After I sent that, I set my phone down. Then I picked up my brush and kept working on my painting.
No matter what Chris chose, my counterattack had to continue. I was going to use my brush to rip the pretty skin right off Emily.
Let everyone see the rotten soul underneath.
The painting was almost finished. Then my phone rang again.
It was Chris.
[I want to meet you.]
I stopped painting.
Harper tensed up immediately. "Is it safe? What if it's a trap?"
I shook my head. "He's not that kind of person.
"And even if it is a trap, I still have to go.
"Some things have to be said face-to-face."
We agreed to meet at a quiet little café tucked away in a remote part of town.
I got there half an hour early.
Wearing a hat and mask, I sat in the farthest corner.
Harper wasn't comfortable leaving me alone, so she sat at the next table pretending to scroll on her phone.
Chris arrived right on time. He looked much more grown-up than he did in my memory.
He wore an ordinary jacket and looked a little worn out. That same old timidness and lack of confidence was still there between his brows.
He sat down across from me, his hands tense on his knees.
"You..."
He looked at me, struggling to get the words out.
"Are you really Sadie?"
I took off my mask and nodded at him.
"It's me, Chris."
The last trace of doubt in his eyes disappeared the moment he saw my face. My features had changed, but eyes didn't.
That cold look of someone who'd clawed her way back from death itself was something he'd never forget.
He opened his mouth, his voice rough.
"That fire...
"I thought you..."
I finished it for him.
"A truck driver passing by saved me.
"Later, I was adopted by a couple who couldn't have kids. They changed my name and called me Sophie Wells.
"They sent me to school, let me study art, and gave me a normal life.
"But later... they died in a car accident."
I said it all very calmly, like I was telling someone else's story.
But Chris' eyes had already gone red.
"I'm sorry."
He lowered his head, guilt thick in his voice.
"Back then, I couldn't save you.
"I was useless."
I shook my head.
"It wasn't your fault. We were just kids.
"The fact that we survived at all was a miracle."
The café was very quiet. Between us sat twenty years of time, and one monstrous fire.
After a long silence, he finally raised his head. There was a trace of determination in his eyes I'd never seen before.
"What do you want to do?
"I'll help you."