Total pages in book: 124
Estimated words: 121578 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 608(@200wpm)___ 486(@250wpm)___ 405(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 121578 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 608(@200wpm)___ 486(@250wpm)___ 405(@300wpm)
Dread curls in my stomach. This story isn’t going anywhere wholesome.
I lean forward, resting my elbows on my thighs and slide my fingers around one of her hands. “Take your time.”
She squeezes my hand briefly. “I wasn’t supposed to go in there. I knew what we did—the family business. But Mom always told me we helped families give their loved ones a proper goodbye. I didn’t really understand what that meant. Like, the behind-the-scenes stuff.”
“Yeah, eight seems young to explain the nitty gritty of funeral prep.” That sounds stupid to say to someone who grew up in a funeral home. When death is literally her family’s business. What do I know about what’s appropriate or not?
“So, I peeked. And I saw him on the table. Heard my mother talking about what they needed to do…” She swallows hard. “To cover all his bruises.” She chokes on a sob and shakes her head.
I wait while she gathers her composure. “My mother sent me back to bed. We had the funeral here. It was…surreal. All of my classmates were here. Some didn’t understand and made horrible jokes…”
“Kids can be fucking awful.”
She nods once. “After that, my parents were different. They’d always given me these really intense stranger danger speeches. But now they kept reminding me that sometimes the people you know—neighbors, teachers, friends of the family—weren’t safe either.”
Smart move. I remain silent so she doesn’t stop talking.
“At the time, I didn’t understand what had happened. But later, when I learned the truth…” She clears her throat before continuing. “It wasn’t until I was in high school that I looked up all the information I could find about what happened to Hoyt. That’s when I finally realized how bad it had been,” she finishes on a whisper. “How much he suffered.”
My stomach tightens. I don’t think I want the details, and I didn’t even know the kid. I can’t imagine Margot as a teenager piecing it all together.
“Hoyt and I used to walk to the bus stop together,” she says softly. “He was one of the only kids who didn’t make fun of me for living in a funeral home.” The corners of her mouth tilt into a sad smile. “He’d try to defend me when kids bullied me, but he wasn’t much bigger than I was.”
“Sounds like a good kid.”
“He really was.” Her eyes shine and she drops her head, hugging Gretel closer. “He loved to be outside doing stuff. I was allowed to walk down the street to play in his backyard. His mom was really nice. She used to make us these magic cookie bars on the weekends. Sometimes he’d come over here to play. Nothing scared him.”
By eight I’d already had a brutal education in how evil people could be. I almost envy the childhood Margot’s talking about, except I know the dark turn that’s coming.
“One day Hoyt didn’t show up for school. When I came home the police were here. They questioned me about the last time I saw Hoyt. I’d said goodbye to him on the sidewalk in front of his house the day before. That was all I could tell them.”
The guilt in her voice tears me up. I reach over and rest my hand on her knee, offering my silent support.
“There was a man in the neighborhood, Mr. Gade. He seemed harmless—always tending his garden and giving out candy. Someone must’ve told the police they saw Hoyt near Mr. Gade’s house.” Her hand strokes over the cat’s fur faster. “He was a man who lived down the street. Hoyt and I always ran into him. He was friendly enough but kind of…strange. He’d stop us to ask questions about school. I used to be jealous because he’d give Hoyt candy, and little toys. Hoyt loved Hot Wheels. I did too but Mr. Gade never had any for me. As a kid I was jealous. Later on…”
“You were just a kid,” I remind her gently. What kid wouldn’t be jealous?
“When I was eight, I didn’t understand all of it. All I knew was that Hoyt was gone. But later, I learned the truth about Mr. Gade…” She shakes her head quickly, as if she’s eager to purge the rest of these memories. “They found Hoyt in Mr. Gade’s house a few days later. Stuffed into some cubby in the walls like insulation.” Her voice cracks. “The things that man did to him…” She takes several deep gulps of air. “I briefly saw his body…but I didn’t comprehend…”
“Margot.” I slide off my stool and wrap my arms around her. “It had to be traumatic to see your friend like that.” What the fuck were her parents thinking? Why didn’t they take better precautions to protect Margot? Something so deliberate and cruel happening to a friend at that age had to be devastating for her.