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It was only when Sylvie followed Miller home after work one evening that the two of them had finally talked things out in the parking lot.
” And while Sylvie had a bad habit of extending poison ivy disguised as olive branches, Miller had a worse habit of accepting them.
you need any help with your bags?” Miller offers, in the interest of making up for their earlier argument. “I don’t have any, but I appreciate it!”
She said the trunk was full??
The battery is low, but she’s not worried about that thanks to the horrible reception. It’s not like she’d be able to successfully place a call if she wanted to anyway.
As she does, the air turns sour. It reminds her of food left in the sun about to spoil. She sniffs the air, the putrid scent getting stronger the closer she gets to her mother’s door.
is it her dad??
Just, desperately, trying to make it work for the three of us.” ‘The three of us.’
It’s the same clothing she wore when she was just a kid, only bigger.
I think you think you were a great mom, but you were selfish and you were mean and you made everything about you. Why the fuck do you think I cut you out? For fun?”
“I told you to call me ‘Mom’!” Sylvie shrieks, shoving her daughter with all her strength. Miller is already slipping before she has time to process what’s happened. She swings and stabs her poles at the ground, trying to catch herself, but is unable to find purchase. She tries to step backwards, but the heels of the shoes—which are only meant to go forward—drag against the ground and trip her up worse. As she struggles to find her balance, Miller accidentally catches herself on an icy patch of ground and is soon flying backwards down the hill. She tumbles through the snow, poles flying and
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“I didn’t put in all this work, go through all this effort, work so hard for you to ruin it! You’re fine! You don’t need to leave because nothing is wrong! We’re going to be a family again! Okay? The three of us are going to be a family and it’s going to be good and you’re okay! OKAY?”
she is crazy!
Miller reaches out to lock the door behind Sylvie, but realises with a start that there’s no lock on the door. In fact, now that she thinks about it, her mother’s bedroom and the front door are the only ones with locks on them.
Wait until he hears about this, young lady, he’s going to be so disappointed in you. SO DISAPPOINTED!”
I knew it
It seems Miller had been wrong about the locks. Her door has one. It's just on the other side.
“I know myself, I’m absolutely going to lean too hard. Please, Mom?”
When she gets to the door, she closes it firmly and locks it with Sylvie’s key before turning her attention to the task at hand: finding the car keys.
But then, it’s from the sight that awaits her inside the room: the source of the putrid air. Her father’s body lies in the bed.
She presses the gas pedal flat against the floor of the car as the small vehicle quickly gains momentum. It slides over ice and cuts through the snow, branches reaching for Miller and slamming into the windows. She grips the steering wheel, knuckles white, and she wrestles for control of the car as it moves forward with a mind of its own, crashing into a tree. The last thing Miller sees as she flies through the windshield is white.
“It should have been you,” she finally says, voice cracking. “I wish it had been you.”
