"Have a seat, Nathaniel."

Boo's heart jumps nervously in her chest as she hears Martha speak-her eyebrows shoot up as a reflex and she looks to Harry. He has a strange look on his face, somewhere between nostalgia and concentration. Maybe he misses Martha as much as Boo does.

It's been so long since she heard Martha's voice. It's comforting and concerning all in the same breath.

"Why are you here?" Martha speaks again and Boo is blown away by how uncharacteristically angry she sounds. Her words are cold and unreceptive, but then again Boo is always made to feel that way by any interaction she has with Nathaniel. "Can't you let an old woman be?"

"We need to talk, Martha," Nathaniel says patronizingly.

"I'm done talking," Martha sneers. "I've got an unemployed daughter and a granddaughter to support, and nothing to say to you." Her voice is weary and Boo's fists clench in agitation at hearing the distress in her grandmother's voice.

Nathaniel ignores this. "And yet here you are, entertaining this conversation. What have you heard recently?"

A pause. "You think I go sticking my nose into other people's business like you two?"

Boo could've laughed at the irony of Martha's snide comment if she hadn't picked up on what she actually said.

Two? Who's the second visitor?

Harry seems to hear this also, judging by his strained expression. His eyes are down and glued to the table with his chin resting on his fists as he listens intently.

"You mean to tell me you spend every day in this damn house with your head in your ass?" Nathaniel crows arrogantly. "It's all over the news, Martha. They'll be digging up the body any day now, I'm sure of it."

Another pause. Boo can picture Martha standing by the window with her hands clasped behind her back and her lips set in a firm line as she mulls over Nathaniel's words. It's a look Boo's witnessed a thousand times-her grandmother caught in deep reflection.

"You had to expect this was a possibility," Martha finally says.

"You can't be serious!" Nathaniel seethes. "The whole point of burying him was to keep him buried! And now they want to dig her up."

Boo reaches out and pauses the tape before anything else can be said.

"Did you hear that?" she whispers. There's an icy edge in the room that wasn't there moments before, like the cold in Boo's heart has seeped through her skin into the surrounding air. Harry's gaze flits to her and he nods.

Boo feels her throat tighten nervously. "Nathaniel said 'bury him' but that 'she' was going to be dug up."

"They're talking about two different bodies," he says quietly.

Bodies. Dead bodies. The thought sends a ripple down Boo's spine and she feels the blood shunt away from her face.

"Why would Nana be talking about burying bodies and digging them back up?" she asks in a hushed voice.

Harry watches her steadily, as if her eyes hold the answer. "I don't know," he finally replies.

Before Boo can say anything else, he reaches over and presses the play button. A crackling noise emits from the recorder as the tape resumes.

"Then you two will be forced to face the truth," Martha says coldly.

"As will you," retorts Nathaniel.

"I can accept my fate," Martha answers evenly. "I'm tired of carrying this weight around. I'm prepared-she'll be well taken care of."

She? Boo wonders.

From the corner of her vision, Boo sees a flash of green as Harry glances at her. She keeps her eyes to the tape recorder, unwilling to look away in case it grows legs and runs off the table.

"And what if she found out what her precious grandmother was up to all those years ago?" Nathaniel sneers. Flecks of metal slice through Boo's skin and her blood runs cold; they were undoubtedly talking about her. Harry's heavy gaze doesn't leave her face.

Martha doesn't answer and Nathaniel laughs derisively, leaving Boo's thoughts to run in frantic circles. What had Nana been up to all those years before?

She can't listen anymore. She goes to stop the recording altogether but Harry stops her once more, gingerly catching her hand before she can do anything.

"Just wait," he whispers, squeezing her hand comfortingly before letting go. Boo chews on her lower lip but resolves to keep listening.

"Get out, both of you," Martha finally commands, sounding like she's on the verge of tears. "Get out and leave me be. I've made up my mind and there's nothing you can say, no amount of guilt you can throw at me that could convince me otherwise. I've held onto this for too long. If they're going to dig her up then let the truth come out, one way or another."

"Think about what you're saying," Nathaniel warns.

"Get out!" Martha shrieks before he can continue.

A chair scrapes hard across the floor as someone stands abruptly; footsteps stomp across the room, seeming to shake the recorder.

"Listen here you old crone-"

Nathaniel's hostile words come a halt as a distant voice cries, "Nana, I'm home!"

Goosebumps erupt across Boo's skin and a gasp tumbles from her lips upon hearing her own voice on the tape. She immediately locks eyes with Harry, who looks equally as shocked.

"I was there," Boo says in horror. "When they recorded this, I was there."

She remembers that day vividly. She'd come home from work early, giddy at the prospect of having the next two days off to spend with her grandmother. As a surprise, she stopped at Welson's on her way home and picked up the ingredients for meatloaf, Martha's favorite dinner.

That day was a mere two weeks before Hurricane Monroe. Before Martha's death.

"Just a second, honey!" Martha yells back. Boo unearths that day from her memory; she was standing by the front door, shrugging off her raincoat and muddy boots as Martha shouted back from the other side of the house. Boo had smiled to herself and trudged upstairs to her room without a second thought. She hadn't noticed anything unusual about Martha's voice at the time-nothing that would've led her to check on her.

What if she had walked into the back office and seen the people Martha was arguing with? Who knows what kind of storm she would've stumbled into.

"You got two seconds to get out before she sees," Martha hisses frantically. "Or so help me God, I'll call the police on you. The good ones that are left, that is."

Nathaniel chuckles in amusement, no doubt aware that Martha would have zero backing from the police department. "This isn't over, Martha. You can't escape us forever."

"I'm not the only one running from the past," Martha bites acridly.

A tense silence passes. Boo can practically envision the murderous look on Nathaniel's face. Another chair scrapes as the second visitor stands. Boo briefly wonders who that person is and why they'd stayed eerily silent the entire visit. Two heavy pairs of footsteps thud toward the door.

"I'll be seeing you," Nathaniel sneers.

"When I'm dead," Martha scoffs. Boo feels a pang of hurt shoot through her chest; if only she'd known.

A beat passes and then a deep voice, not belonging to Nathaniel, says, "Goodbye, Martha." Boo doesn't recognize that voice and from the deep chill it sends down her spine, she doesn't want to. A door on the tape slams and Boo jolts in her seat.

Martha exhales audibly. There are a few more moments of muted rustling before faint footsteps approach and the recording cuts off completely.

« • »

Boo gazes down at the wood-framed photograph of her grandmother in her hands, studying every inch of her smiling face. She runs the pad of her thumb over the dusty glass, swiping a clear streak across Martha's eyes. Inside her ribcage, every beat of Boo's heart is accompanied by the dull ache of grief.

Every emotion is magnified. It's like finding out all over again that her grandmother is dead; every healing wound has been cruelly ripped open and any mark of progress destroyed.

What had Martha been hiding for so long? How could she be capable of hiding secrets with such deadly potential, especially when she seemed so intent on helping everyone except herself? Whatever Martha knew was threatening enough to Nathaniel to have him showing up on her doorstep, clearly uninvited.

Boo sniffles quietly. Tears begin to line her eyes and her lips tremble. The more time she spends digging, the less Martha's death is looking like merely a freak accident and the more she believes her hunch is correct. The tape seems to have only solidified that. A whirlwind of questions is beginning to brew inside, but one stands out more than the others.

Why?

Why record this conversation and risk being caught?

Why was Nathaniel visiting in the first place?

What is Martha guilty of?

She hears the kitchen tiles creak as Harry approaches from behind and interrupts her racing thoughts.

"Melita," he begins softly. He sounds far away, despite being mere inches behind her; thunder rumbles in her mind, drowning out his words.

Boo vigorously shakes her head, not trusting her voice. If she opens her mouth, every terrible emotion will come rushing out. Even breathing through her nose is difficult.

Sturdy arms wrap gently around her shoulders and suddenly the floodgates crack open. Her heart collapses as she turns in his arms, the photo of Martha sandwiched between their bodies, and completely crumbles under the weight of her betrayal.

oh dear. poor boo :( one heartache after another. but never fear! answers are on their way. what do you think about the tape? what new questions have surfaced for you? i know a couple of you mentioned nathaniel being on the tape and you were right about that, but who could the second visitor be?

ALSO - happy new year! i hope it's been kind to you so far :) how did you celebrate? any resolutions?

and as a side note, thank you all for almost 7k reads on this story! you're all incredible and it makes my heart happy to know that i'm creating something you (hopefully) enjoy. stick around for the next couple weeks, got a few surprises up my sleeves that i hope you'll enjoy. much love to you, until the next update x