After I Was Gone

I remember it was just over a year after Audrey came to live with us when she set her eyes on my bedroom.

She pleaded with Bobby, asking him to give me her smaller room and let her move into the sunlit one I had.

Back then, Bobby still cherished me, so he didn't agree to her request. But Audrey had other plans.

While I was away at school, she placed the only photo we had of our parents right on the edge of my doorframe. When I pushed the door open, the frame fell and shattered. That photo—our only one—was gone in an instant.

She rushed to call Bobby the moment she heard the sound. That night, Bobby hit me for the first time.

He said I wasn't worthy of being our parents' daughter.

From that moment on, nearly all the warmth he had ever shown me went to her.

But the one who caused our parents' death—was her.

A few years ago, during that devastating fire, our parents, both rescue workers, had volunteered to enter the most dangerous zone. They knew they might not come back.

The fire had been under control, or so it seemed. Then flames erupted again, even stronger than before. People started to question why. The sudden surge took many lives—among them, my parents.

Their bodies, when found, were burned beyond recognition. But beneath them, shielded tightly between their arms, was a girl.

Audrey.

Bobby believed she was the life our parents had died to protect—their legacy. He filed an adoption application and brought her into our home, raising her as one of us.

Back then, I thought so too. I believed she was a victim, someone our parents had saved. I was willing to treat her as my sister, to honor their sacrifice.

But not long ago, Brian Colden, a former colleague of my parents, confided in me. He said that fire might not have been what it seemed. The area my parents had cleared and contained flared up again. It could have been caused by something—or someone.

That day, the first seed of suspicion toward Audrey took root.

I asked Brian and Adam Miller to investigate.

All I wanted was to learn the truth before I left this place.

Just as I was lost in thought, Adam sent me a message.

He had been my father's student. He told me that in the room my father had entered, they detected high levels of toluene—a chemical known to cause secondary ignition.

Toluene was a common ingredient in nail polish.

And then I remembered Audrey's hands—her nails were always glossy and shimmering.

Could it be… that she had caused their deaths, even if indirectly?

…

"Bella, I only said a few words to you. Why are you staring at Audrey like that?" Bobby snapped, stepping in front of her as though I might pounce. "What, are you planning to do something to her again?"

His brows were tightly knit, his whole posture defensive.

"You misunderstood. I'll get along with her. It doesn't matter anymore. I'm leaving soon anyway. There won't be any more arguments between us."

My voice was shaky. To him, though, it must've just sounded like I was putting on a pitiful act.

"Don't pretend like we're the ones bullying you," he sneered. "You're the one always giving Audrey trouble."

I wanted so badly to tell him—everything had been Audrey's performance. But I knew he wouldn't believe me. Explaining would only make things worse.

"Bobby, after I leave, just live well with her. That's all I want."

He froze for a second at my words.

"What do you mean, 'after you leave'? Don't start using that runaway threat again. Audrey just calmed down. Don't stir up more drama."

I gave a small, tired smile and said to both of them, "Don't misunderstand. I only wish you both a happy life together from now on."

Because this time, I really am leaving.

"Of course," Audrey chimed in, her voice sweet and triumphant. "I'll take good care of Bobby."

She looked at me with the pride of a victor.

And Bobby—he simply thought I was being fake. He wouldn't even look me in the eye.