Branches of trees scratched at my bare arms. There was a cold wind that whipped through the tears, tearing at my nightgown. I was still sobbing. Each time I stopped, my father pushed me forward farther. I took another step forward and fell, face first, into a pile of dirt. I felt my nose break against the ground. I screamed and tried to turn myself over. I got to my side as I felt the pound of dirt being shoveled on top of me. My body rustled as the dirt flung over me. They were burying me. Alive.

“Maybe you’ll have to let me meet Jimmy sometime. Other than at dinner, I mean.” I fumbled my words. My tongue felt heavy and dry in my mouth, like a foreign object I couldn’t get rid of. “He doesn’t usually say much.”

Seth giggled and curled into me. He took a deep breath. I felt his little body go limp as he drifted off to sleep feeling safe and sound.

I tucked Seth under the covers and closed his door but a crack. I tip-toed down the stairs and grabbed a bottle of cabernet on the counter. Matt, who was diligently washing the dishes from dinner to turned to look at me. His eyes widened. He turned off the water and rushed to my side, water dripping all over the floor.

“Are you okay,” he asked. “You look a bit green. What happened?”

“Jimmy was in prison,” I replied as I poured a touch too much wine into the glass I was holding. Matt steadied my hand and took the bottle. I took a long, deep drink.

My hands started trembling and my heart was pounding. My mouth instantly went dry, and my mind raced. What the fuck is going on? I threw my sheets off and realized there was blood there, too. My pillowcase was smeared with handprints. MY handprints.

I jumped from the bed and ran to the bathroom. I scrubbed my hands until they were raw. Tears streamed down my face. I looked at my reflection, searching my eyes for anything that gave way to what could have possibly happened. I had no recollection of the night past locking the front door and crawling into bed. I slept. I slept soundly through the night. I was certain of it.