In memory of Nicole Lewanski

My Sweet Audrina
from the nightstand.
A few hours later, I was on the final chapter when my phone beeped with a
text message. It was Rad.
Are you up?
I texted back. Yeah
Can’t sleep?
No
Me too. Want to go for a drive?
I checked the time. It was almost two in the morning.
Now?

---

Yeah.
I thought about it. My parents would murder me if they knew, but it wasn’t
the first time I had snuck out in the middle of the night. “Screw it,” I muttered
under my breath. I felt a small, unexpected thrill at the thought of seeing him
again.
Okay, I texted back.
See you outside your house in 10.
R
AD
WAS
PARKED
outside when I closed the front door as quietly as I could and
made my way quickly to his car.
“Hey,” he said, as I slid into the passenger seat.
“Hey.”
He pulled away from the curb and turned into the next street.
“Where are we going?”
“Actually, there is something I need to do, and I was hoping you could help
me.”
“What is it?”
“Ana had this gold necklace she was really attached to. It was a gift from her
parents . . .”
Rad shifted gears and pulled over onto the side of the road. He dug into his
jean pocket and drew out a gold chain with a heart-shaped locket attached. I
recognized it at once. I was sitting at my desk in class one day, with the teacher
droning on about algebra, when a glimmer of light caught my eye. Outside, a ray
of sunlight had pierced through the clouds, briefly illuminating a gold necklace
around Ana’s neck like a wink. With lazy curiosity, I had noticed a dent at the
center of the heart-shaped locket.
“I always wondered why that dent was there,” I said.
“Her puppy, Starflash, chewed on it,” said Rad. “I think she liked it more
because of that. She used to say that the most beautiful things are damaged in
some way.” His expression saddened. “Anyway, I found it tonight. She had stuck
it in a copy of 
Brighton Rock,
as a bookmark I suppose, and then she forgot about
it. We looked for it everywhere, and I kept telling her not to worry, that it
would turn up eventually. Tonight, I was putting away some of her stuff in a
box, and the locket fell out of the book. I know she would want to have it, so I
thought I should return it to her.”
It took me a few moments to comprehend what he meant by returning the

---

locket to Ana. “You mean now?”
Rad nodded.
“You want to go into the cemetery at this hour?”
“You don’t have to come if you don’t want to,” he said. “I can take you back
home.”
“Why don’t you just wait until the morning? Cemeteries are so scary at night.”
“I don’t want to leave the necklace on her tombstone, in case someone takes
it,” said Rad. “I was thinking of burying it next to her, and that’s not something I
want to be doing in broad daylight.”
“I suppose you have a point,” I sighed.
“So do you want to come?”
I thought about it for a few moments. “Okay,” I said finally.
He looked relieved. “Thanks, Audrey. To be honest, I didn’t like the idea of
going there alone.”
I 
BEGAN
TO
regret my decision when Rad turned into the entrance of Woodlands
Cemetery, where Ana was buried. As we drove past the weeping willows and
tombstones jutting up from the ground like crooked teeth, a feeling of trepidation
washed over me. When he came to a stop, I began to feel tiny pins pricking the
back of my neck. This was always a bad sign. “Are you okay, Audrey?” said Rad,
releasing the catch of his seat belt. “What’s wrong?”
“I’m fine,” I said, but my voice came out strangled and my entire body was
trembling.
“You don’t look fine,” Rad frowned. “Do you want to leave?”
I shook my head and frantically felt for the door handle. “I just—need some
air,” I gasped. I stumbled out of the car onto the grass, desperately trying to suck
air into my lungs.
“Audrey!” Rad had materialized at my side. “It’s okay; calm down.” I felt his
hand on my shoulder. I brushed it away.
“Don’t tell me to calm down!” I snapped, feeling disorientated.
“I’m sorry,” he said, taking a step back.
My hands had turned numb, and I shook them furiously as I paced up and
down the grassy field. I must have looked like I was having a mental breakdown,
but I didn’t care. All I could focus on was the horrible 
thing
that had taken
possession of my body. I was desperate to get back in control again.
“What can I do?” I heard Rad say, through the fog clouding my brain.

---

“I’ll be okay,” I panted. “Just—just give me a minute. Please.”
A few moments later, I was starting to feel a little better. I glanced at Rad,
standing there with a look of worry etched across his face.
“Are you all right?”
I nodded. “I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be.”
“Sometimes it feels like—like there’s a boa constrictor around my body and it’s
squeezing every last atom from my lungs. I don’t know how else to explain it.” I
drew in a deep breath and let it out slowly.
“You don’t have to explain,” he said, and somehow I sensed that I didn’t.
“Thanks.” I gave him a tight smile.
“Hey, why don’t you just wait in the car while I go and do this?”
“No.” I shook my head. “I’ll come with you.”
A
NA
’
S
TOMBSTONE
WAS
barely visible beneath all the cards, decaying bouquets, and
other tokens of grief.
A full moon hung in the sky like a Chinese lantern, and though I was grateful
for the light, my mind kept playing random scenes from horror movies in a
sinister montage.
Rad had brought a small trowel like the ones my mother used when she was
gardening. He got onto his knees at the foot of Ana’s grave, and with the sharp
point of the metal, he carefully cut out a small patch of grass. He put the grass to
one side and began digging at the fresh soil. I sat down next to him cross-legged
and watched. My mind shot to my panic attack earlier. I thought he wouldn’t
want anything to do with me, that he would think I was a freak. But he didn’t
seem to mind or make an issue of it, and I liked him more because of that.
“You know, I used to hear stories about kids who hung out at cemeteries in
the middle of the night. I never thought in a million years that I’d be one of
them,” I said.
Rad shook his head. “Me too.”
After a few minutes he stopped and stood up, fishing the necklace from his
pocket. He looked at it with a mixture of curiosity and sadness. “You know, I’ve
never opened it,” he said. “I don’t know what she put in there.”
“I’m sure it’s a picture of you.” I stood up and looked at the gold locket
cupped in the palm of his hand.
He nodded. “I think I should just bury it and walk away.” But there was a

---

hesitancy to his voice.
“Maybe Ana would have wanted you to look inside.”
Rad seemed to be thinking it over, and then he pried at the edge of the locket
with his fingers. It clicked open with little resistance.
“It’s not a picture of me,” he said. I leaned in closer to examine the
photograph stuck in the heart-shaped frame.
“It’s Candela,” I said, looking at him with surprise.
“Yeah,” he said. I couldn’t read the expression on his face.
Without a word, he snapped the locket back into its original position. Then he
dropped to his knees again and placed it slowly into the freshly dug pit.
We were silent as he scooped the dirt onto the locket, filling in the void. Then
he took the patch of grass and put it carefully back into position, patting it down
gently. It looked like we were never here—as though the locket and its
mysterious significance had been swallowed up by the earth. Rad glanced at his
watch. “It’ll be daylight in a few hours. Let’s get out of here. I know a great place
where we can watch the sun come up.”

---

Four
I
T
WAS
A
dreary, downcast day. I was riding to the bus stop in Mum’s car, booked
in for my first appointment with a psychologist just before noon.
Mum had been grilling me about Rad since breakfast and hadn’t let up. “I’m
only trying to stop you from making a huge mistake, Audrey,” she said as she
pulled up at the bus stop. “You’ll thank me one day.” She adjusted the rearview
mirror to catch her reflection before smearing bright red lipstick across her lips.
“Mum, I’m not seeing Rad anymore,” I lied. “Can you please just drop it?”
After we left the cemetery that night, Rad took me to an old lighthouse at
Widow’s Cove. It stood at the end of a battered wharf and wasn’t much taller
than a lamppost. We climbed up a rickety ladder and onto a balcony edged with
thin metal railing. It was still dark, and the moon—large and glowing—threw a
pale shimmer of light across the water. That night, we talked the way old friends
do, with candor and ease. We were still deep in conversation when the sun
announced its arrival with an astonishing flourish of orange and pink.
“Well, the damage has already been done.” My mother’s voice, always on the
verge of hysteria, drove a wedge into my thoughts. “I was in the grocery store
the other day, and I heard the Baker sisters gossiping about it in the next aisle.”
“That’s because they’re assholes, Mum. I can’t live my whole life worrying
about every damn thing people are saying about me.”
“No, you can’t. But in the future, you can try to be a little more considerate.
Imagine how Duck feels, you taking off with some guy.”
“We just talked; that’s all. And Duck knows that. Rad needed a friend that
night, and I was there for him. You’re just trying to turn it into something that
it’s not. Maybe you’re projecting your own guilt onto me,” I said, my words
coming out in a rush before I could lose my nerve.
Her eyes narrowed. “What are you talking about?”
“You know exactly what I’m talking about. What you did to Dad.”
Her face turned an ugly shade of red. “How dare you,” she hissed. “That
happened years ago. Your dad has gotten past it. You’re the only one who won’t

---

let it go.”
“Well, what choice did he have?” I spat at her. “At least we kept your dirty
little secret to ourselves.” As soon as the words were out of my mouth, I knew I
had gone too far.
“Get out!” she screamed. “You ungrateful brat. Get out 
now
.”
I got out of the car as quickly as I could, slamming the door behind me.
A
S
THE
BUS
pulled away from the stop, I sat in my seat pinching hard at the skin
between my knuckles. I took a deep gulp of air through my mouth and exhaled
slowly. Feeling self-conscious, I looked up to see whether anyone noticed how
jittery I was. But the bus was crowded, and all the riders looked like they were in
their own worlds.
My mother had a way of making everything seem ten times worse than it
actually was. She watched me like a hawk, scrutinizing every move I made,
looking for an opportunity to call me out. When I was thirteen, she came to pick
me up at a birthday party. She caught sight of a cake stain on my new dress and
yelled at me in front of all my friends. Though it was years ago, the humiliation I
felt that day remains fresh in my mind.
As the bus continued, starting and stopping in the heavy morning traffic, I
reached into the pocket of my jeans and fished out the crumpled piece of bright
yellow paper my dad had given me the night before.