Anya spent the following week writing like she'd never written before. Determined more than ever to finish the novel that would explain her feelings and (hopefully) convince Raven to stay with the avid writer, forever.
The book deal was just a bonus now, as was the paycheck that came with it. Anya's only focus was Raven. To convey every detail of love to the heartache that was her life. She was bearing her soul to the world with this story. But only she would know it was real.
Anya raised her arms overhead and stretched after yet another writing marathon. Over thirty thousand words she'd written that week, and she was just getting started. The real challenge would be the main content of her draft. The accident.
Raven entered with a bowl of macaroni and cheese just as Anya laced her fingers behind her head and stared at the ceiling to think out every detail of the scene. The interruption was a welcome one if her gurgling stomach was anything to go by.
She smiled when Raven set the bowl in front of her with a cold can of diet coke. Anya looked at the bright orange bowl of noodles. She was pleased Raven was mastering her way around boiling water and mixing in milk and a flavor packet.
"Thank you, Raven. This looks great."
Raven smiled. "The noodles aren't hard this time. I did what you told me and threw them against the wall until they stuck."
Anya lifted a brow. "How many did you throw exactly?"
Raven looked in every direction but Anya's way as she always did when wanting to avoid a topic. "Unimportant," she said quickly before kissing Anya's temple and rushing from the room.
Anya chuckled as she lifted a spoonful of noodles to her mouth and took the mushiest mouthful of macaroni she had ever tasted. Shaking her head but still smiling internally, Anya set the bowl aside.
She'll get it one day.
OoOoO
Anya sat outside on the porch steps after another long day of writing. She stared at the clear night sky, gazing up at the moon while wondering how she was going to write the next part of this book. She was three weeks in and finally coming up to the car crash.
The event was proving impossible to write. She'd think of the events from her perspective, and suddenly she'd freeze, barely able to breathe as her nightmares came to life. She had to push through them she knew, but the pain was still so fresh. She didn't know if the wounds of that night would ever truly heal.
She had waited over three hours for Raven to show at that restaurant. She remembered the nerves that paralyzed her as she clutched onto that black ring box for most of the evening.
Then how she received the phone call from Lincoln in the middle of the night after returning home. She remembered being asked to come down to the city morgue to identify Raven's burnt corpse. Her body barely recognizable.
Anya was probably the only person who could identify the body. She knew every inch of Raven. Knew the birthmark just on the inside of her left wrist. Or the scar she got on her right elbow after falling off a dirt bike when she was a teen.
Anya knew all of Raven's marks which was why she was so crushed when she realized it was, in fact, Raven's corpse in that morgue.
Raven never had a chance, not even a sliver of hope. She never went to the hospital. The car had exploded, killing her instantly and sealing her fate.
Then, there was the driver, describing the reason Raven lost her life was because some dumbass med student decided to get high on narcotics then go for a joy ride just caused Anya's anger to stir all over again.
Anya cursed the name that was Clarke Griffin. She shivered suddenly for some unknown reason and looked around.
The cool night air was still. Street lamps provided irregular pools of dim lighting for the cookie cutter houses that lined the cul-de-sac. The silence only broke at the sound of a few chirping crickets. Nothing explained Anya's spontaneous skitter. That is until the shadow across the road suddenly shifted and moved closer.
Literally, at the end of Anya's driveway, the impossible happened. A familiar blonde-haired woman, clad head to toe in dark leather stepped from the shadows. The blackness of the girl's attire matched the dark circles of her eyes. Eyes Anya would never be able to forget since seeing them in the diner several days prior.
It was Clarke Griffin herself.
Anya shot to her feet, storming down the drive fists clenched, teeth gritted, and hazels raging as she closed the distance.
"You must have a death wish coming here."
It took all the strength Anya could muster not to strangle Clarke then and there or beat her to a bloody pulp as she deserved.
Clarke stood motionless, her mouth opened but no words came out. She looked broken. Defeated.
"Say something!" Anya shrieked. Her tone was much louder than she intended, but Clarke's proximity made her crazy. Raven's killer stood just a few feet away.
Anya's harsh tone seemed to grab Clarke's attention. "Sh-She's alive."
It was more of a statement than a question. Anya crossed her arms and looked back toward the house to make sure Raven hadn't come out.
"H—How?" Clarke stuttered, just as shocked as Anya was the day Raven first showed up in her life again.
Anya shook her head. "You don't deserve answers. And you wouldn't believe me if I told you anyway. Get out of here."
Anya turned to leave but was stopped by a hand on her arm. She was surprised the gesture didn't elicit even more anger. Clarke's hand trembled almost uncontrollably.
"Wait. I don't know what's going on. I don't know if that girl had a sister or—"
"Her name was, Raven!" Anya shouted angrily. "The woman you killed was called, Raven Reyes!"
Clarke cowered and shook her head, dark oceans glistening with unshed tears. "I'm sorry, Anya. For…everything."
Anya wasn't surprised Clarke knew her name. Surely, they both had gotten the same police report.
Anya shifted on her feet. What did this girl want from her?
"I came to talk to you."
Anya lifted a brow. "I can't do shit with your apologies, so save it."
"I know, I know. Look, there's more that happened that night that you don't know about. That the police don't know about."
Anya swore under her breath. "You can't shift blame to anyone else. You were the driver. You're the one who killed the woman I loved most in this world!"
"Please," Clarke plead. "Please, just listen. Raven wasn't alone in the car that night."
That got Anya's attention. Her jaw fell open, unsure if she'd heard correctly.
"She wasn't even the one driving. She was in the passenger seat," Clarke continued.
A flood of adrenaline rushed through Anya's system at this new information. But before she could ask anything Raven called from the front door.
"Anya? Babe, you out here?"
"Over here, Raven," Anya called. "I'll be there in a minute."
But Raven was already marching down the driveway to meet them and discover who Anya's new acquaintance was who also happened to be her killer.
"Don't say anything," Anya whispered quickly to Clarke. "Raven doesn't have any memory of it."
She couldn't confirm whether Clarke understood or not as Raven joined them while swinging an arm around Anya's shoulder.
"Hey there, stranger. Friend of Anya's?"
Clarke glanced at Anya before carefully turning toward Raven. "Errr, yeah. Clarke, nice to meet you."
Anya had to close her eyes as Raven shook the hand of the woman that killed her. She hated this. Hated that Clarke and Raven were touching. Hated that they were acting so damn civilized.
Come on, Raven. Let's just go inside. Anya willed.
"Have you had dinner, Clarke?"
Anya's eyes nearly bulged from her skull. Oh no. Raven, please stop being so horribly polite. We cannot invite your murderer into our house!
"Errrr," Clarke was clearly at a loss for words.
"Guess that means we have a guest for dinner! Come on in, Clarke. I cooked! Hope you like grilled cheese sandwiches."
Raven switched her arm from Anya's shoulder to Clarke's and guided her inside sending a sharp stab of betrayal to Anya's chest.
Of course, Raven couldn't have known. It was up to Anya now to get everyone through the evening in one piece and make sure Clarke didn't spill anything about the accident. She also needed to get Clarke alone to figure out what the hell she was going to say.
What did Clarke mean Raven wasn't alone in the car? And why in hell would Raven not be driving?
With a deep breath, Anya followed them inside. Wishing the night was already over.