Page 130 of Camera Stays On

I’m sorry I couldn’t love you.

I stared down at the contorted frame. If I had just said yes when we got here. Or if I hadn’t run away five years ago. Or maybe it went further than that. Instead of wishing I’d said yes, I should be wishing I’d said no.

I could have rejected that first kiss, or the second. Or when he started calling me his girlfriend. I could have broken up with him in high school and gone to a different college. I didn’t have to give him my virginity. But I did. I stayed—even though I knew in my heart of hearts I shouldn’t have.

This was all because of me.

Tears fell into my lap as I sorted through the myriad of feelings that came with Sawyer being gone for good.

Asher came over and sat with me, rubbing my back. “It’s okay. I...have something for you.” He dug into his pocket and pulled out the engagement ring Sawyer had given me. I took it gingerly and examined it under the dreary light coming from the trees. It was bent and scratched now from the disposal. One of the side diamonds was gone, as well, knocked loose at some point. What an apt representation of Sawyer’s and my timeline. What once was shiny and beautiful at the surface level was now ugly and warped. I brought the ring to my lips and planted a firm kiss, then tossed it into the grave. It landed on Sawyer’s chest, and I felt like I could have peace.

Asher and I returned to the house, hand in hand. The paramedics were taking away the bodies. I saw Darius first, and Asher told me what happened with him. I then explained Juliet and Mick. One by one, the house was emptied—Gavin being the last one out—and they taped it off. A policeman came over and took our statements, letting us know it was safe to go home, but to stay close to town. They’d be reviewing the footage before clearing us, but based on our statements, it sounded like we’d be cleared on self-defense.

“All of our cars have been tampered with. They don’t work,” Asher mentioned.

“Oh, that’s right, the young lady told us that. I’ll have an officer swing you on home.”

Asher and I climbed into the back of a police car, still dressed in our horrible, ruined wedding gear, and started off the property.

“Where to?” the officer asked, looking into his rearview mirror.

Asher and I exchanged glances. That was a good question. Sawyer had sold their home. And I didn’t have one at all.

Pursing my lips, I turned to the officer. “You know Tilly’s bar?” I gave him an exhausted smile and then glanced at Asher, who’d raised an eyebrow.

“You want to go to the bar?” the officer asked skeptically.

“I could sure use a drink,” Asher agreed, his smile coming a little slower. “How ’bout you, Andi darlin’?”

I stared into his handsome face, memorizing everything about him in that moment. It was finally over. Smiling softly, I settled into his shoulder.

“I’m parched.”

The End

Epilogue

Andi

One Year Later

I STOOD BACK as Asher unlocked the gates and waved his arm grandly as people poured through.

“Welcome to Black Hills Farm! Go pick out a pumpkin, get on the tractor for a hayride, or go apple shooting! There’s a petting zoo to the right, and the hay maze is on the left. If you’re hungry, go on up the hill and visit the bakery—where we have apple spice donuts, hot dogs, and fresh popped popcorn! Have a fun visit!”

I laughed as Asher repeated his speech over and over into the megaphone, until the line of townspeople who’d been waiting all morning finally dwindled. He let the last group in, then looked over at me and whistled.

The dogs, hearing him, came bounding from somewhere, tripping me as I walked over to him.

“Whew! What a crowd. Not bad for opening day.” Reaching him, I slipped my arm around his waist. It was a crisp autumn day—the wind was warm, the leaves were orange and yellow, and the air smelled of cinnamon donuts and fallen leaves. “I’m so proud of you.”

“Why, thank you. This is just as much your accomplishment as it is mine, Andi.”

I looked around at the farm attraction, named after the forest where The Blair Witch Project was filmed, my chest swelling with pride. After the police had cleared the three survivors—me, Asher, and Bea—Asher decided to sell the mansion rather than doing the haunt there like he’d wanted. It went for double the price he’d bought it at, to a true-crime creep who the less I spent time with the better. He’d tried to give us money for the footage Sawyer had captured that week. We refused purely out of disgust, but even if we had considered it, as the offer was pretty generous, we couldn’t have. The police had taken every computer, camera, and recording they could find for evidence. Sawyer’s final film would never see theaters.

We took the true-crime creep’s money and bought a small corn farm. While I’d never liked the scary stuff, I agreed it could be fun, and we started working on Black Hills Farm.

The farm wasn’t huge, just a few acres. But there was enough space for every attraction we wanted. We hired farmhands to take care of the corn and grow pumpkins, bakers to make treats like cider, donuts, and cookies, ranchers for the petting zoo, and teenagers to help direct people.