Unravel by Calia Read Page B

pick up the area. Ropes that had been hanging on the wall were in a tangled mess on the ground. One looked close to slipping off the wall, it was swinging back and forth like a pendulum. A saddle had fallen into a large bucket of water. Pails lined against the wall were tipped over and horse feed was scattered across the floor.
    Lana got to work. She moved from one side of the barn to the next, her pace brisk and sure. When she bent down to right the pails, I rushed over to her.
    “Stop.” I grabbed the handle. “Lana, what are you doing?”
    Her back straightened. She let go of the handle and moved onto the next pail. “I can’t go to bed knowing the barn is left like this.”
    Was I an accomplice to a crime for letting her clean up? I felt like it. But it wasn’t as if I had experience in this type of situation. It was like I had a blindfold across my eyes. I was moving forward, but very slowly, hoping that whichever direction I took was the right one. The worst part of it all was the more she straightened things up, the more color slowly crept into her cheeks. Her breathing became normal and the tears stopped falling.
    My gut was churning. I realized, with a sick sense of dread, that this made her feel good. Hiding the evidence felt right.
    She didn’t stop moving until everything was back in its rightful place. And then she dusted her hands off and looked around the barn.
    “I’m tired,” she announced.
    Was I dreaming right now? I had to be. What I was experiencing couldn’t be real. I blinked, my lashes fluttering against my skin, but Lana was still in front of me. Still had a blank look on her face.
    “Don’t go in there,” I whispered.
    She held my gaze and said, “You’re still going to stay here, aren’t you?”
    I tilted my head to the side. “What other choice do I have?”
    “You have plenty of choices.”
    “And none of them involve leaving you here,” I replied. “I can’t undo what I saw.”
    She walked out of the barn, but not before I heard her say, “For your sake, I wish you could.”
    I was too shocked to move. To breathe. To speak.
    Technically, I was supposed to be staying there for the rest of the summer. But how could I step back into that house knowing what I knew? And how could I not stay there, knowing that my friend needed me? I closed my eyes for a second and trailed behind Lana. I finally caught up to her and together we walked to the back door. She opened the door and the hinges squeaked. I swear it was a warning for me to stop right there.
    I hesitated. For years this house had felt like my own. I would walk in and out of it with ease. But now it just felt wrong.
    I stepped inside, bracing myself for Lana’s dad to jump out and attack, but like most homes at this time of night, it was completely quiet. Yet the only difference was this quiet was eerie. The refrigerator hummed and the air conditioner blew cold air through the vents. I was close to jumping out of my skin.
    Neither of us said a word as we walked down the hallway, toward the stairs. Next to the stairs was the formal living room. A single lamp was on. The room was one solid color: ivory. On the fireplace mantel were family pictures. One was of Lana when she was eleven. She looked directly at the camera, with a small smirk on her face. It was a smirk that I had seen time and time again. I’d chalked it up to her shy personality. But now I saw that the small smirk wasn’t because she was shy, it was because she was cautious. Scared.
    I tried to carefully walk up the stairs, but no matter how hard I tried, the steps creaked underneath me. I couldn’t say the same for Lana. She moved so silently, it was as if she was walking on air.
    Her parents’ room was at the very end of the hall. The door was closed. Only a few steps away was her dad. I had to pull my eyes away from the door, because if I stared at that smooth surface of the door one more second it would turn into a screen and project what I saw Lana’s