The Return of Ellie Black

“Ever since Ellie Black’s disappearance, Chelsey has volunteered for any case involving violence against women. She always has plenty of work to do. All those beaten, all those bruised, all those maimed women are welcomed on Chelsey’s shores. It is a type of atonement, Chelsey understands. She could not save Lydia. She could not solve Ellie’s case.”

Chelsey takes on more case work to suppress her trauma. Emiko Jean uses the metaphor of Chelsey welcoming women onto her “shores” to tie Chelsey’s behavior to the belief that Lydia’s body was lost at sea. Chelsey connects her work to her inability to save Lydia when she was a child, and she desperately wants to assuage her guilt—one of The Psychological Impact of Trauma.

“I used to obsess over stories about missing girls. […] Back then, I didn’t think of the girls as actual people. Not living, breathing humans who had been tortured, pushed beyond their breaking points. […] I thought I was invincible. But then, I learned. I learned that I didn’t need shackles or chains to keep me bound. All I needed was four walls of pristine forest. And fear. The kind that festers and blisters, makes your limbs twitch. Yes. The best prisons are the ones created in our own minds.”

Ellie’s remark suggests a critique of the true crime genre, as she admits that she failed to remember that every story describes the suffering of real people. Ellie learns through real-life experience the horrors of these stories and how fear can trap a person within the confines of their own mind.

“I wish this was not a cautionary tale about what happens to girls who wander off in the dark. Who are made to learn there are bad people everywhere. That the truth is these people are not strangers. They are the men who you sleep with, the men you work with, the men you raise. I wish this wasn’t what it means to be female—it is not a matter of if something bad will happen, but when.”

As Ellie reflects on what happened to her, Jean highlights the dangers of living in the world as a woman. The passage particularly underscores the commonplace nature of misogyny; all women experience it, and they experience it at the hands of ordinary men. As sensationalistic as Ellie’s story might seem, Jean invites readers to see it as part of a spectrum of violence against women.

“Ellie is curled up in the fetal position, comforter twisted around her legs. Her daughter’s body twitches as if she’s caught in a nightmare. This isn’t right. This isn’t my daughter. This is a stranger. Silly thoughts that bring a burst of bright red shame. But Kat cannot shake it. The idea her daughter has been replaced by a changeling. Somebody else’s baby.”

Kat notices the change in Ellie’s demeanor, hardly recognizing her daughter—a point emphasized by her comparison of her to a “changeling,” or a fairy child swapped for a human baby. This transformation is difficult for Kat to see because she knows that it comes from the abuse that Ellie has faced, which suggests trauma’s relationship to Identity and Transformation.

“Chelsey’s department is filled with men who speak too much about themselves and ask too little about others. Plus, there are other things. The uniforms wear personal T-shirts under their blues. Sometimes sports teams, other times slogans, and, most recently, their favorite: It’s okay to be white. They’d had those special made, snickering to each other like frat brothers. Chelsey is used to it by now. She has always been an outcast. A castaway.”

Chelsey experiences discrimination within her precinct. Although most of the officers do not speak in overtly prejudiced ways to her, she understands how they feel about her based on their racism and sexism. Jean uses a simile to compare the officers to frat brothers to highlight how Chelsey feels ostracized from the rest of the police force and to suggest her coworkers’ immaturity and unprofessional behavior.

“Chelsey finds a heavy silver pen on her father’s desk and grips it. He’d thrown it at her mother once. He’d been working a big case. Up early in the morning, then until all hours of the night. She wasn’t sure what her mom wanted. But she did recall the sound of the pen as it hit the closing door. How her mother had ushered Chelsey and Lydia away, saying, Let’s give Daddy some space. Chelsey had spent many childhood years tiptoeing past her father’s office. When he finally allowed her in, after Lydia died, she’d felt chosen. Anointed.”

Chelsey recalls an instance of her father throwing his pen at her mother. She later learns from Lydia that he threw the pen when their mother tried to bring him dinner. Chelsey’s memory signifies The Complexities of Home; Chelsey feels like an outcast in her own home because of her father’s obsession with work and abusive treatment of his family, so when he finally decided to let her into his life, she was willing to overlook his problematic behavior.

“Sometimes, when I think back on that night, I can almost hear my fractured half whispering, ‘Go away. Go far away. Stay safe. Stay alive.’ Now, it makes me sad to think about how far I’ve gone, how far I’ve traveled from myself. I’m not sure I can ever return. How do we let go of what no longer exists?”

Ellie’s description of her first time experiencing dissociation reveals its importance to her self-preservation. This survival method sustains Ellie through her captivity even though it hinders her attempts to reintegrate into her old life.

“She never much liked the ocean either. Panic inches up her spine every time she peers at the endless horizon. […] Lydia had loved the sea. Chelsey’s sister was giddy imagining all the life under the water. Giant squids. Blue whales. Bright coral. Her sister fantasized about worlds beyond her own. Of escaping.”

Chelsey fears the sea because she believes that she may find Lydia’s body washed up to shore. Chelsey realizes the irony of this fear given that Lydia loved the sea, which represented escape from her home life.

“Two whole days, Chelsey watched her mother weep. […] Two whole days before Chelsey’s family learned what really happened—that Oscar and Lydia were dead. As a final thought, Chelsey drops her voice and adds, ‘If you’re afraid, we can protect you.’ […] Ellie gives a short, mirthless laugh, and Chelsey feels its weight. The heavy message inside of it, the looming threat. No one can help me. No one can keep me safe.”

As Chelsey relives not telling anyone where Lydia went the night she disappeared, she channels this guilt into promising to keep Ellie safe. Ellie’s bitter laugh foreshadows the revelation that West is watching Ellie: Even if Ellie wanted to trust Chelsey, she knows that talking to the police will lead to Willa’s death.

“And herein lies the problem. This is Chelsey’s life. The darkness that swallowed Lydia touched Chelsey, too. This is where she lives now. She is drawn to the shadows. Every case is personal. Chelsey stays mute, folds that charcoal part of herself up, and puts it away.”

Chelsey cannot divorce her guilt from her work. She feels personally connected to every case even though she knows that solving cases will not absolve her of Lydia’s disappearance. Chelsey feels trapped because she does not know how to rid herself of the trauma of losing Lydia.

“‘If someone always remembers your name, speaks it out loud, you’re never really gone. That’s the real afterlife,’ Gabby said. Then we said all the things we’d do when we were free. […] Gabrielle. Hannah. Elizabeth. When I’m alone, I still repeat our names sometimes. I thought it was dangerous to trust them. But I was wrong. They never should have trusted me.”

The girls’ decision to speak each other’s real names shows that they do not want West to erase their identities. This quote reveals the bond the girls create in sharing their pasts. However, Ellie immediately undermines this sense of camaraderie by revealing that they should never have trusted her—a remark that heightens the suspense by implying that something bad happened to the other girls and that Ellie was to blame.

“But Chelsey knows that violent men are not inevitable. They are not a matter of course. Of nature. Of being born. Violent men are forged. They are made. All of this…all of it is preventable.”

This quote highlights the systemic nature of misogyny. Although others on the force believe that the perpetrators in missing persons cases are “monsters,” Chelsey understands that society creates violent men.

“My fingers searched for the friendship bracelet. But it was gone, burned in the fire. The greatest trick the devil ever played wasn’t convincing others he didn’t exist, but that your friends were your enemies.”

Ellie continually searches for the friendship bracelet on her wrist to remind herself of Gabrielle. She compares West to the devil to highlight his sinister nature as well as to emphasize the way he tricked her into betraying Gabrielle.

“Do you ever think about the tiny moments in time? The ones that take seconds? The ones you’d go back and do anything to unravel? This was my moment. The one I regret most, more than taking a piss in that abandoned parking lot, more than fighting with Danny. It’s a tangled black ball inside me, always sitting in my gut.”

As Ellie relives the moment where she betrayed Gabrielle, she emphasizes her guilt by saying that she would do anything to change what she said to West. Even though Ellie does not know what would have happened if she had lied, the guilt will haunt her forever.

“Up until then, I’d still thought of escape. I didn’t after that night. I made a list of things I would do to keep her safe. The list was short. It contained one word: anything. I didn’t even know her name. But I knew she needed me. And need is such a powerful thing.”

Ellie’s transformation into Willa’s caretaker changes everything for her. Since she has someone to care for besides herself, Ellie understands that she would do anything to protect Willa, which she fears will eventually destroy her.

“I was all mixed up inside. Shapeless. Twisting and drifting until I was a speck of dirt on an infinite timeline. The sun exploding. A black hole consuming. ‘I love you too,’ I said. Is there a word for loving the thing you fear the most? He kissed my forehead. His touch spreading through me like a virus.”

This quote highlights how West uses fear to manipulate Ellie. Ellie’s use of simile to describe West’s touch as a virus emphasizes her belief that West will kill her, either by force or with his words.

“‘I’ll do it. I’m ready.’ Then and there, I promised to give Grace all my tomorrows. What is the price of absolution? Of forgiveness? The answer was simple: a life for a life.”

Ellie’s decision to bomb Governor Pike to save Willa causes her to speculate about the price of forgiveness. Ellie hopes that saving Willa will absolve her of what happened to Gabrielle and Hannah, even if it means sacrificing herself. Her motives strongly resemble those of Chelsey, who likewise feels the need to atone for a perceived failure to save a vulnerable girl.

“She gentles her voice even more. It hurts to speak. Hurts more to look at all of this. The carnage. What one human can do to another. Vaguely, Chelsey understands this will be something she will never get over. It will follow her. This ghost, a new haunting. As long as these girls have demons, Chelsey will too.”

After Chelsey knocks West unconscious, she reflects on the psychological effects of trauma. Chelsey understands that she may never recover from what happened. Chelsey likens trauma to being haunted because she knows that the specters of Doug and West will follow her just like Lydia’s has.

“I squeezed my eyes shut, and I imagined Willa. That the love I had for her would transcend the confines of my body. That one day, she would run wild across a meadow toward a bright future. And I’d be a distant memory. These days on the compound like a bad dream. This was the only way to set us both free.”

Ellie believes that the only way to free herself and Willa is to sacrifice herself. Ellie holds on to the hope that Willa will leave the compound and never have to think about it again. This dream is the only thing Ellie can hope for to receive her absolution.

“The fear slowly peels away. They turn to one another and dare to grin. Suddenly, all of their mouths are bursting with laughter. Ellie cups her hands over her mouth and shouts her real name. Then Gabby does, too. Then Hannah. Then Willa. It feels good to be as loud as they want.”

Ellie imagines how her friends would celebrate if she freed them from captivity. The act of screaming their real names symbolizes the desire to regain their identities. Ellie imagines this scene as pure happiness, which contrasts with the abuse that they experienced together.

“‘What would you like to say to Gabby?’ Dr. Fischer asks. ‘I’m sorry.’ Ellie is sorry she could not save her. She is sorry that Gabby will never know the joy and agony of tomorrow. […] ‘What does Gabby say?’ Dr. Fischer asks. ‘I want her to say that I don’t have to be sorry.’ […] ‘Do you believe that?’ Ellie opens her eyes. Tears track down her cheeks. She opens her mouth and closes it. ‘I’m trying to.’”

Although Ellie wants to believe that Gabrielle would forgive her, she hasn’t healed enough to believe it yet. Instead, she grieves for how West stole Gabrielle’s life from her. Ellie knows that Gabrielle believed that people live on in the memory of others, so Ellie honors Gabrielle by remembering her.

“Sometimes she thinks she can still feel it, the friendship bracelet Gabby gave her, and she wonders how she is still hanging on. […] Ellie still has a hard time believing it wasn’t her fault. What happened to Gabby. To Hannah. To herself. Often, she thinks of what she might have done differently. Will she ever let go of the blame? She is not sure. But she hopes she will someday. […] That someday she will unlock the doors. Leave the crawlspace. […] Run headlong into her future, carrying the loss in one hand and hope in the other.”

The weight of Ellie’s trauma makes her believe that she is at fault for what happened to Gabrielle. Nevertheless, she feels that she will overcome her trauma and learn how to find forgiveness; in doing so, she will mentally leave the site of her imprisonment as she has already left it physically.

“This is Chelsey’s final goodbye, a wound closing—sometimes these things heal naturally, sometimes they must be cauterized. […] For a moment, she is five again. Lydia is six. Water trickles from the faucet, and bubbles float in the water. They’re giggling. The memory sucks the air out of her lungs. Her throat rushes with anguish, and Chelsey does not push it down. She allows it to come. She lets the grief roll through her and crest. A foamy burst. Because what is grief but the other side of love?”

As Chelsey remembers her childhood, she feels overcome with grief, but rather than suppressing it, she allows herself to feel the pain. Chelsey understands that the only way that she will find healing is to experience her emotions rather than channel them into another area of her life.