Total pages in book: 78
Estimated words: 77292 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 386(@200wpm)___ 309(@250wpm)___ 258(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 77292 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 386(@200wpm)___ 309(@250wpm)___ 258(@300wpm)
So I got the window. The raindrops are forming little trails down the side. I like watching them grow bigger as they join with other raindrops. Watch them race down the side of the window. Try to guess which one will win. They look like small tears, like the Rolls-Royce itself is crying, joining me in feeling—
“And for God’s sake, stop staring at the raindrops,” Dad snaps. “I bought you a cell phone, didn’t I? Why can’t you play Tetris, text your friends, like a normal kid?”
God, he was an ass.
What the hell was wrong with me watching the raindrops? Most parents would be thrilled to not have their kid staring at a screen.
But as I watch the raindrops fall down my window, I notice something odd.
Most of them are going down in a straight line, like you’d expect. Occasionally some of them curve a little, but that’s not out of the ordinary.
But one trail of raindrops veers off, goes almost sideways. Toward my side-view mirror.
“What the fuck?”
“What is it, Maddox?” Alissa asks.
“I just noticed. The raindrops. They usually fall down in a straight line. But the ones toward the front of the car”—I point—“are swerving off in an unnatural direction. That shouldn’t be possible.”
Alissa narrows her eyes. “Maybe it’s just the shape of the windows.”
I shake my head. “I’ve been sitting in this very car for years, watching raindrops on the window. It was a way to stave off boredom when I was younger. My dad was super annoyed by it. Thought I was an oddball.”
“That’s rubbish. Rain is fascinating.”
“I’m not looking for comfort, but thank you.” I scratch my head. “It’s just… I mean, I haven’t watched the raindrops in forever. I used to watch them race, try to guess which ones would win.” I chuckle. “In fact, one time, I even pretended they were tears, that the car was weeping along with me, like it didn’t want to go to the…”
“To the what?”
I drop my jaw. “Oh my God. The river of tears.”
She cocks her head. “From the message you received from your father?”
I nod. “Follow the writing raven through the river of tears. I thought the river of tears was referring to the river that ran through the nature preserve where we found May’s head. But maybe…”
She widens her eyes. “Do you think he meant the little trails the raindrops make on the car?”
I rub the back of my neck. “I always wondered why he left me this car. And you heard what my mom said, that he was absolutely adamant about me getting the car. No conditions. I didn’t even have to wait for probate. I walked out of my father’s funeral with the keys in hand. We weren’t on good terms when he died. There was no reason for him to leave me the car, unless he had some kind of underlying reason.”
She unbuckles her seatbelt. “Well, let’s see where that odd raindrop trail goes.”
“You’ll get wet.”
“Who the bloody hell cares? I’m going to take a shower once we return to my place anyway.”
“Fair enough.” I reach into the back seat and grab two fedoras I keep there for emergencies, hand one to her. “At least wear this. It’ll keep the rain out of your eyes.”
“What a sweetheart.” She puts the hat on.
I put on my own fedora and get out of the car. I close the window and watch the trails of raindrops as they cascade down the driver-side window.
Alissa joins me on my side, rubbing her arms against the chill. “Anything?”
I point to the sideways trail. “Yeah. Right here.” I watch as the rain flows toward the side-view mirror and then makes a right-angle turn down the side of the door. It then pools about two inches before the bottom of the door. “That’s weird, too.” I gesture to the car door. “See how the other trails of raindrops go all the way to the bottom of the door and then just drip down to the ground? This trail is accumulating unnaturally two inches before it hits the bottom.”
I poke my finger where the raindrops are pooling. Sure enough, a small dent has been made in my door. Completely unnoticeable in daylight because the car is black. Even if I did notice it, I would think it was just a small ding caused by an unruly shopping cart in a grocery store parking lot or something. Easily buffed out by a body shop.
I open the car door, place one hand on its exterior and the other on the interior. I find the dent with my index finger of my left hand, and then meet my right finger to it. The dent is situated right over the little interior pocket, where the driver might keep maps, loose coins, and the like.
I let out a sigh. The side pocket of the car is empty. Has always been. I don’t keep anything there, and if there had been anything there, I would have cleared it out when I inherited the car.