My brother had always been the outspoken sibling. The twin who shared all of his deepest secrets with me, even though I never asked for them. When he was alive, he used to tell me all about the cases he and John were working on. Of course, that didn't include confidential information, but still—I thought I knew Cory in and out like the back of my hand.

I understood, however, that was the furthest from the truth. Because here I was trying to figure out what my brother was being so secretive about that he kept it to himself.

This had been the third time leaves crunched under my boots as I mindlessly strolled in the same direction. The arch of my feet throbbed, and my head hung low. A sigh slipped from under my breath as I looked over the notes again.

Maybe I had it all wrong. I could have been misreading his message on the map. But no, this was exactly where the little black dot led to—a small open area in the dirt. The area was in between the trees in the middle of the woods, where vultures were often known for circling, and there were barely any patches of grass.

Whatever the case, the fact that I was going in circles with the vultures irked my nerves. I had seen so many of them that I wondered if there was a nest around here somewhere. Most likely.

"Urgh, Cory, what does any of this mean!?" I grumbled and kicked a pebble in front of me.

Even with a map in my hands, I was being dragged on a scavenger hunt to nowhere. This was definitely something up Cory's alley. Cory loved scavenger hunts. Whenever my parents held an Easter egg hunt on Easter Sundays, he was the first to begin hunting. That was part of the reason he chose to become a homicide detective. If he could piece the clues together, he was all for it.

There was no way in hell I could determine what his purpose for this map was at this rate. The files didn't help much either. There were just a bunch of pictures of children who all had a similar facial structure and similar background information on them. Other than that, they were in no way connected. Some parts of the files were hard to read since they were old and worn out. So, I couldn't tell if these girls were from murder cases, missing cases, or whatever.

"Geez, you're so weird, Cory. . ." I groaned.

Did his name just leave my lips? Well, shit, I guess it did. I couldn't remember the last time I said his name. I could only remember the times I tried. During the first two weeks after his death, I stammered every time his name was on the tip of my tongue.

Prior to preparing for the funeral was the very first time it started. My mother nearly broke down at the casket choosing when the Mortician spoke of Cory's name. She couldn't handle the viewing, so I'd been the one to assist my father. It took a lot not to break down too.

Because two weeks had already passed, Cory's body was already decaying. His fairly light brown skin tone was growing pale. The pores of his skin held cracks, spreading inch by inch beneath his body hair. Two perfectly circular bullet holes peered out from the white sheet as his chest remained on display.

He'd always been the lighter one of us. My mother had always joked it was because of my father's lighter skin complexion because it certainly wasn't hers. My mother's skin was dark, and mine was just a few tones behind her. No one would have expected Cory and I to be fraternal twins. No one's first impression was that he was Black either. He'd always been mistaken for mixed-race.

"We're going to find who did this to Cory. . ." Police officers told us those words the night he was rushed to the hospital.

John had been so messed up in the head that he was removed from the case. The suspects were found less than a week later. The store cameras caught them running out the front entrance with most of the cash register's money and my brother's life. It was all a matter of bad timing for Cory. He was caught in the crossfire and paid for it in the most gut-wrenching way possible.

I sighed and shook myself out of the negative thoughts.

I hadn't come here to dwell on shitty things. I came here to see what was so important to my brother. But I guess it was pointless. Perhaps, all it was were old notes of his that belonged to an old case. If that were so, I felt like an idiot for even bothering to come out here by myself. I shouldn't even have been here. I was supposed to be resting per the doctor's orders.

There was a little voice in the back of my head holding onto false hope. It slipped into my mind that maybe, just maybe, Cory had left something here for me. It would explain why his belongings were given to me and not anyone else, right? The more I thought about it, the less likely it seemed. That was too far-fetched even for him.

"Get a grip, Angie. . ." I laughed at myself.

Maybe I was just losing my mind.

"Sis, you're stressing yourself again. Why do you always do this?" I could hear Cory's words beating me down. He'd always asked me that, and I could never answer.

I took a step back, observing the area one last time. Most of the vultures had spread out by now, but they were still flying in a circle. It took a moment for me to realize my hand had fallen onto my stomach. I tightened my palm around my bump, my lips straightening into a thin line. My eyes never left the vultures. Sheesh, maybe there was a nest around.

Whatever it was, I wanted out of here now.

My eyes continued to stalk every movement the birds made. At least, until a soft ringing nearly made me jerk out of my skin. Shit. I quickly fished through my pockets for my phone to stop the vibration. John's name glowed across the screen.

"Hey, John! What's up?" I placed my phone to my ear, putting on a cheery front.

"Hey, babe. I just called to check on you and let you know I'll be coming home soon. Are you feeling better?" he said.

"Yeah, much better. Would be even better if you were here," I answered.

"Soon, baby. I'll be home soon," he said, sighing.

There was a pause. The pause gave me a moment to realize how loud and clear the background noises were. Damnit. I forgot I was surrounded by obnoxious screeching vultures.

"Angie, what are you doing?" I imagined his eyebrows furrowing as he asked that.

"Huh, nothing." Shit. That was too fast of a response.

He must have caught on because there was another pause. Then, a heavy swallow followed from the other line. "I hear bird noises and trees rustling in the background. Are you outside?"

"Oh, uh, yeah. I just went out for a walk."

"Babe, it's ten minutes after eight . . . and it's nearly dark outside"—I could hear every drip of disapproval in his tone—"you're walking around on your own?"

"Um, yes?" I laughed nervously. I knew what was coming if I didn't say something else. He was rightfully going to chew me out, and I wouldn't have heard the end of it. It would have been five times worse if he knew I had driven from Shifton to West Greenbush for my "walk."

"But! I was just going to go back home now. I just needed some fresh air, you know? It was stuffy and lonely in the house," I added before he could comment.

"Angie, are you sure everything is okay?" John asked.

"Yes, yes. I promise."

"Are you sure, you're sure?" he asked again.

I cleared my throat before replying, "Yes! I swear! Um, I'm going to have to call you back because I'm walking back now. I'll see you when you get home, alright? I love you, bye!" The last thing I heard was his protesting when I hung up the phone.

I suddenly felt the urge to vomit. A matter of guilt, I'd imagine it was. Lying to John always made me feel sick to my stomach. Marriages were supposed to have trust. Trust wasn't the issue I struggled with, though. Confiding in people was the problem. It was hard for me to confide in others without feeling like a burden on their shoulders. John would drop everything to make sure I was okay. As applaudable as it was, I didn't want him to do that.

Tilting my head, my eyes carried over the sky. Highlights of dark blue and purple dimmed over my head as 8:15 PM rolled in. The stars slowly began to merge into one, coating the skylines with their sparkly touch. I inhaled the fresh air, losing myself in the moment.

These were the kinds of moments that made giving birth to Rosemary seem worth it. Just as the thought crossed my mind, something teal blue flew past me. I followed the color to the ground, where the butterfly planted itself. It hopped around a bit and lightly flapped its wings.

Between the butterfly and the vultures, I couldn't tell what they were doing. Perhaps, they were just doing what they were known to do. I glanced around once more before stuffing the map back into my bag. Obviously, whatever Cory was up to was meant for him and him only. I had no right to meddle with it. Maybe this was the universe's way of telling me to let go. Only two months had gone by, yet it felt like we'd been without him forever. 

Taking one last look around, I backed away from the spot. My back was nearly turned when a noise echoed off the trees. I flinched and stilled. My fight or flight instincts heightened. But as I noticed it was just one of the vultures making a scene, I was able to relax. My shoulders slouched again, and I let out a breath deep from my lungs. Then, I noticed something odd.

The butterfly was no longer resting on the dirt. Instead, under the butterfly's wing, a small object stuck out from the ground. I tried straining my eyes, but it didn't work. I had no choice but to move closer. Slow and timid was the pace I walked forward.

"What the hell is that?" I wrapped my hands around my arms, my heart thumping wildly within my chest. The butterfly didn't move when I approached. Again, that was odd. Butterflies normally took off at the slightest sound.

A dent deep enough to be a hole was carved into the top of the object. There was a small lump in my throat as I bent down on one knee, running my fingers across the dent. Seemingly disturbed, the butterfly flapped its wings, flying in the opposite direction. That gave me enough room to grasp sight of the entire object. It was creamy white. Shaped like a circle. And the rest of it was buried beneath the dirt.

I pushed my fingers into the dirt, searching for the rest of the object. I could feel it sinking at least two feet into the dirt. The texture to it was smooth, except for the rough ridges. When I was able to remove more dirt, two large holes indented into the object were as clear as day. My brain hadn't processed the situation, no matter how hard I attempted to.

What I was staring at hadn't clicked in my mind until my palm rubbed against a row of sharp-edged rectangular shapes. Teeth? That's what it felt like. Hell, that didn't make sense. I pulled at the object until it was completely free from the depths of the ground. The gears in my brain began turning. They continued to turn. And continued. Then, a scream filled the sky.

I recoiled in horror, stumbling back over my feet, my butt hitting the ground.

Crime shows were a big part of my childhood. I've seen the remains of so many dead humans featured on them. Both fake and real. I should've recognized the object at first glance. So, why didn't I figure it out sooner? The fact that I'd been touching a skull. Cory's notes were starting to make a lot of sense. Holy shit, and it was going to haunt me for the rest of my life.