THE LAST HOUR OF SEVEN BELLS
The Address
The address was on the south side of the city, in a neighborhood Nora had patrolled a hundred times as a detective. The streets were narrow, the buildings were old, the windows were barred. The people who lived here had learned to keep their heads down, their doors locked, their mouths shut.
Nora parked across the street.
She killed the engine.
She sat in the silence.
The house was small, a single-story brick structure with a sagging porch and a rusted fence. The windows were dark, the curtains drawn, the door closed. There was no sign of life, no movement, no sound.
But Nora knew he was inside.
She could feel him.
The man who had killed her sister.
The man who had stolen fifteen years of her life.
The man who had been hiding in plain sight.
She got out of the car.
The air was cold.
The wind was sharp.
Her footsteps echoed on the cracked sidewalk.
She walked to the front door.
She knocked.
No answer.
She knocked again.
The door swung open.
A woman stood in the doorway. She was young — younger than Nora, younger than Lena had been when she died. Her hair was dark, her eyes were red, her hands were shaking.
“Sarah?”
The woman nodded.
“You’re Nora.”
“I’m Nora.”
“I’ve been waiting for you.”
Sarah led her inside.
The house was small, cluttered, dark. The furniture was old, the walls were bare, the floors were covered with stacks of newspapers and piles of clothes and boxes of memories.
“He’s in the back,” Sarah said.
“Alone?”
“As far as I know.”
“How long has he been here?”
“Three days. He comes and goes. I’ve been watching him. Following him. Learning his patterns.”
“You’ve been stalking him?”
“I’ve been hunting him. There’s a difference.”
Nora followed her through the living room, down a narrow hallway, to a door at the end.
“He’s in there.”
“How do you know?”
“I heard him. Moving around. Talking to himself. Crying.”
“Crying?”
“He’s been crying for days. I think he knows. I think he’s been waiting.”
“Waiting for what?”
Sarah looked at her.
“For you.”
Nora reached for the door.
Her hand was shaking.
“Nora—”
“I have to.”
“Are you sure?”
“I’ve been sure for fifteen years.”
She pushed the door open.
The room was dark.
The curtains were drawn.
The air was thick with the smell of sweat and fear and something else. Something familiar. Something that reminded her of Lena.
A figure sat in the corner.
Huddled on the floor.
His back against the wall.
His knees drawn to his chest.
His face hidden in his hands.
“Daniel Cross,” Nora said.
The figure looked up.
His face was pale.
His eyes were red.
His lips were cracked.
“Nora,” he whispered.
“You know my name.”
“I know everything about you.”
“Then you know why I’m here.”
He nodded.
“I killed your sister.”
The words hung in the air.
Nora’s heart stopped.
“Say it again.”
“I killed your sister. I killed Lena. I’ve been running from it for fifteen years. I’m tired of running.”
“Then why didn’t you turn yourself in?”
“Because I was a coward.”
“You’re still a coward.”
“I know.”
Nora walked toward him.
Her footsteps echoed on the bare floor.
“You took her from me. You took my sister. You took my best friend. You took fifteen years of my life.”
“I know.”
“You don’t know. You can’t know. You weren’t there. You didn’t have to bury her. You didn’t have to watch your parents fall apart. You didn’t have to carry the guilt of not answering the phone.”
He looked up.
His eyes were wet.
“I’m sorry.”
“Sorry doesn’t bring her back.”
“No. But it’s all I have.”
Nora knelt in front of him.
Her knees touched the floor.
“Why?”
“Why what?”
“Why did you kill her?”
He was silent for a long moment.
“Because she was going to leave me. Because she was going to tell the police. Because she was going to ruin my life.”
“So you ruined hers instead.”
“I ruined both of ours.”
Nora stood.
She looked at Sarah.
“Call the police.”
Sarah nodded.
She pulled out her phone.
Daniel watched her.
“You’re not going to kill me?”
“No.”
“Why not?”
“Because I’m not like you. Because I don’t have to. Because I have something you’ll never have.”
“What?”
She looked at him.
Her eyes were cold.
“Peace.”
The police arrived twenty minutes later.
They handcuffed Daniel.
They led him out of the house.
They put him in the back of a squad car.
They drove away.
Nora stood on the sidewalk, watching the taillights disappear into the night.
Sarah stood beside her.
“What happens now?”
“Now he goes to trial. Now he goes to prison. Now he pays for what he did.”
“And you?”
Nora looked at the sky.
At the stars.
At the light.
“Now I try to live.”