Don't Tell a Soul

by Kirsten Miller

  His eyes dropped to his boots. “Okay, so I did a little cyberstalking,” he admitted. “I read what the people at your school were saying about you and Daniel Lane. I know plenty of guys like that, and I know how they operate. I weighed what I’d read online against what I know about you. It seemed pretty clear that his story didn’t ring true. Of course, it doesn’t hurt that I know what it’s like to be wrongly accused.”

  What he was saying sounded too good to be true. “When did you do all of this detective work?”

  “A couple of days ago.”

  “Why didn’t you say anything?”

  “You obviously weren’t planning to have all that crap follow you here to Louth. I figured you’d tell me if you wanted me to know. It’s your story.”

  In the distance, from the road that ran along the shore came the sound of wheels on gravel. I caught a glint of metal and saw a truck speed past a break in the trees. Then the tires slowed to a crawl and stopped. The engine shut off and two car doors slammed. Someone had parked next to our car. I’d made the right choice to follow Nolan.

  Nolan and I stood facing the shore, waiting for what might come next. There was no doubt it meant trouble. “Damn it,” Nolan muttered. “I’m so sick of these people.”

  “Should we get back to the car?” I asked, wrapping my fingers around the box cutter in my pocket. I wasn’t sure what other choice we had.

  “Yeah,” Nolan said. “We’ll be fine. Just don’t let them see that you’re scared. We haven’t done anything wrong.”

  As we walked across the ice, a bear on its hind legs appeared at the edge of the lake. I was relieved to realize it was Boris, the cabdriver, wearing his massive fur coat. A person of normal dimensions soon joined him. Next to Boris the man looked shrunken and small. The two of them stood there as we walked toward shore, their lips moving and arms gesturing. I couldn’t hear a word of their conversation, but there was no mistaking the smaller man’s anger.

  As we neared, he stepped out onto the ice. He was bundled up for fishing, with only a strip of his face exposed. Ignoring me, he went straight for Nolan. Judging by the deep-set wrinkles that fanned out around his eyes, he had to be at least sixty. “How the hell do you know about this place?” he demanded.

  “Google maps,” Nolan replied calmly.

  I glanced back and forth between them. It was a strange way to start a fight. I wondered if we’d been trespassing.

  “That’s a damn lie,” the man growled. “Who brought you here?” His voice didn’t rise, but it simmered with rage.

  Nolan stared back at the man. “I’m sorry,” he said politely. “Isn’t this public property?”

  “This lake belongs to the people of Louth,” snarled the local.

  “I am one of the people of Louth,” Nolan pointed out. “My family contributes its fair share to the town’s tax revenue.”

  “You don’t contribute anything,” the man sneered. “People like you and your father are killing this town. You’re a bunch of goddamned bloodsuckers, and you always have been. You think you can come here and take whatever you want. Our homes, our businesses, our daughters—”

  That’s when Boris joined the conversation. He put both hands on his friend’s shoulders and began to pull him back. The short, angry man tried to shrug him off, and I saw Boris’s grip tighten until it must have been painful.

  “Come away, Henry,” Boris ordered his friend.

  “Henry,” Nolan repeated. His face had gone dark. “Henry Bristol. Ella’s grandfather. I’ve heard about you. You’re exactly the sort of man I expected you’d be.”

  “You know, one of these days,” Henry Bristol growled, “I’m going to catch you up here on your own.”

  “And I look forward to that day,” Nolan assured the smaller man.

  “When it happens, I’m going to make you regret the day your fucking family sailed up the Hudson.”

  “You can save your energy,” Nolan said. “I already do.”

  “You need to get your friend out of here, Miss Howland,” Boris told me. “And if you’re smart, you’ll hop on a train right now and go home.”

  * * *

  —

  Nolan and I didn’t speak until we were halfway down the mountain. To be honest, my mind had returned to New York for a tour of all the places where I’d been harassed and threatened before I fled. Sidewalks, subways, dressing rooms. Until I’d left for Louth, there’d always been someone around to let me know that I wasn’t welcome. I knew exactly how Nolan felt.

  “I’m sorry that happened,” Nolan finally said.

  “You have to be more careful.” It was my turn to warn him. “What would those guys have done if I hadn’t been there? They could have shoved you into one of those ice-fishing holes, and no one would have ever known. You need to go back to the city right away.”

  “And leave you here with a bunch of scary rednecks and a crazy uncle? I’d never forgive myself.” I felt his eyes turn to me. “Why don’t we go back to the city together?”

  After the kindness he’d shown to me, I didn’t want to hurt his feelings. “Together?”

  I was surprised to see him smile in response. “I promise you—I’m not looking for a girlfriend. When my dad told me you were coming to live with James, I thought I’d better keep an eye on you. Louth can be a pretty rough place, and from what I’d heard about James, I knew he might not be up for the job.”

  “So you thought you’d be my knight in shining armor?” I snorted.

  “I know you’re not a damsel in distress, and I know you don’t need to be saved. But you remind me a lot of Lark, and I don’t want anything to happen to you. So how about it? Want to go down to the city with me?”

  There was nothing I wanted more than to get the hell out of Louth. “Yes, but New York is the last place I need to be right now. I can’t go anywhere else, either. I don’t have any money or friends. I don’t even have any family aside from James. I’m stuck here for now.”

  Nolan went quiet. Then he said, “Can I tell you a secret?”

  “Why not.” I shrugged. “You seem to know all of mine.”

  “No, I’m serious,” he said. “This one could get me into a lot of trouble.”

  “Okay.” He had my full attention. I couldn’t help but wonder if I was about to hear a confession.

  He rubbed his lips together as if he still wasn’t sure he should speak. Then he appeared to throw caution to the wind. “That girl—Ella Bristol? The one everyone in town thinks I convinced to run away?”

  I felt my smile fade. “Yeah?”

  “I didn’t convince her. But I did give her the money she needed.”

  “You did?” I asked cautiously. I wasn’t sure what it all meant.

  “She was desperate to get out of Louth. She said her family had her under surveillance every hour of the day. Henry back there was the worst of the bunch. I could see it was starting to take a real toll on her. So I gave Ella an envelope full of cash and promised to help any way that I could.”

  “Wow.” I had to admit, I was impressed.

  “I’d be happy to do the same for you,” Nolan said. “Are you ready to disappear?”

  I summoned my willpower because I knew this was going to be hard. “Not yet,” I told him. “I still have work to do.”

  Nolan dropped me off at the base of the hill, and I hiked up the drive to the manor. I had no idea what kind of situation I might be walking into when I opened the door, and I hoped enough time had passed for James to cool down.

  I stepped inside and braced myself, but no one was there, so I made my way up the stairs. My relief was short-lived. As I approached the rose room, I could hear voices inside. When I reached the door, I saw Miriam rooting through my sock drawer. James stood behind her, issuing orders. The bureau’s other drawers had all been emptied, and the clothes from
my closet had been dumped onto a chair. My bed was stripped, and the sheets and covers lay in a pile on the floor. James and Miriam had inspected everything I owned, short of what I had on me.

  Fortunately, the only thing worth finding—Lark’s phone—was inside my coat pocket.

  “Looking for something?” I asked, tamping down my anger.

  Miriam’s expression was pained—I knew she wasn’t there willingly—but James didn’t flinch. His nostrils flared and he held his chin high. He was convinced that his mission was righteous. “Yes, we are,” he said. “Your mother insisted. She said she had a conversation with you this morning that made her question your mental health.”

  I calmly took a seat in the chair by the vanity. “Well, if you tell me what you’re looking for, I might be able to help you,” I said.

  “Drugs,” he announced. “Or anything else that might be contributing to your questionable behavior.”

  “Like what?” I asked, genuinely curious what that might be.

  “Don’t get smart,” he snapped. “You’ve been missing all morning, even though I ordered you to stay in your room. No one knew where you were. Your mother thinks you’ve gone completely insane, and you haven’t been answering any of her calls.”

  I pulled out my phone. I’d turned the ringer off, knowing she’d call back after our conversation that morning. There were thirty-one missed calls, all from her. And I was the one they all thought was crazy.

  “May I have that, please?” James demanded.

  “What?” I asked, looking up.

  “Your phone.” He was holding out his hand impatiently.

  I rose from the chair. “You’re kidding. There are no drugs on my phone.”

  “Give it to me right now,” he ordered. “Or I’ll have your mother switch off the service.”

  I was shocked that the situation had deteriorated so quickly. I passed him my phone, hoping he wouldn’t frisk me and find Lark’s phone still tucked away in my pocket.

  “Now sit back down,” he ordered.

  I sat and watched him open apps and scroll through texts, photos, and emails. Former addicts with meddling mothers quickly learn not to keep sensitive information on their phones. I knew he’d find nothing, but I still couldn’t believe it was happening. He seemed to grow angrier and more frustrated with every moment that passed. He’d been so sure I was guilty of something, and being proved wrong had enraged him.

  “What exactly are you looking for?” I asked, again.

  “I’ll know it when I see it,” he muttered, furiously scrolling.

  “James?” Miriam asked, her voice gentle.

  “What?” His hands trembled violently as he ransacked my digital life.

  “James, we’ve looked everywhere. I don’t think there’s anything here in the room.”

  He looked up from my phone, his chest heaving and his teeth grinding. It hit me then. I couldn’t believe I hadn’t recognized it before. James was on drugs. Stimulants, from the look of it. I thought of all the veiled threats he’d made since I’d arrived at the manor—all the times I’d been warned that I could be sent back to rehab. He’d been as high as a kite the whole time.

  I was furious and heartbroken all at once. For years, I’d prayed that my uncle James would come save me. His brief visits had been the highlights of my childhood. That man and this one had little in common. I’d never been able to understand his transformation. Now it made sense to me. Drugs had destroyed the uncle I’d loved. My only question was—when had it started?

  He shook my phone in my face. “You’re not getting this back unless your mother calls. Do not leave this room again without my permission.” James stomped toward the hall. “Lock the door when you leave,” he ordered Miriam.

  “James!” Miriam called out to him. “I can’t lock her in!”

  He spun around, his face burning red. “Do it!” he roared. “Or get the hell out of my house and find yourself another job.”

  I put a hand on Miriam’s arm. “I’ll be fine,” I promised. I needed her there. The last thing I wanted was to be left alone in the manor with James.

  Miriam studied my face and saw I was serious. “Okay,” she agreed, reluctantly. “I’ll bring some food up to you later.”

  “Miriam,” James growled.

  “Don’t worry about me,” I assured her. “All I want to do right now is take a bath and get the chill out of my bones.”

  Miriam seemed utterly bewildered by how unruffled I was. It surprised me, too. But then, I finally knew what I was dealing with. The ground beneath my feet was feeling firmer than it had in years.

  * * *

  —

  As soon as I was alone in the rose room, I filled the tub with steaming hot water. When I slipped in and closed my eyes, the first face that appeared in my mind belonged to a kid named Kevin. I didn’t really know him, but we’d been in group therapy together, and I’d heard him tell his story. To be honest, I hadn’t taken him all that seriously at first. There were kids in rehab who’d been addicted to heroin or meth. I preferred painkillers. Kevin had stuck to the tiny orange pills that had been prescribed for his little brother.

  The way he told it, Kevin’s parents expected nothing short of academic excellence, and Kevin was a B student at best. When he discovered that his brother’s pills could help him cheat sleep and focus, he started popping them whenever he had an exam. After he got caught stealing the meds, he began buying them from dealers. Within a few months, he was taking six times the safe daily dosage. Not long after that, he started hearing voices.

  Kevin was convinced the voices belonged to demons. They whispered horrifying things in his ears. His mother and father were trying to murder him. That’s why they forced him to study all hours of the day. Once he died of exhaustion, they would bury him in the backyard and give his belongings to their beloved youngest son.

  Kevin didn’t tell anyone about the voices, even when they got louder and increasingly violent. He had to kill his parents, they insisted. He had to get his mother and father before they could get him. The cops would know it was self-defense.

  Kevin began to interpret every action as suspicious. If his mother picked up a knife to chop carrots, he would imagine the blade lodged in his chest. When his father drove him to school, Kevin noticed if he wasn’t asked to strap on his seat belt. Kill them! the voices screamed. Finally he had to take action. Rather than give in to the demons, Kevin decided to jump off a bridge.

  Kevin had two broken legs when he came to rehab, and his body was emaciated. Like with James, the drugs had destroyed Kevin’s appetite. He and my uncle also shared the delusions and paranoia that are symptoms of amphetamine abuse. James had tried to convince my mother that Sarah and my father were having an affair. He’d told the sheriff that Ruben Bellinger was sneaking around the manor at night. James had even believed that his seventeen-year-old stepdaughter was a spy. James didn’t think I was on drugs. That’s not why he’d looked through my phone. He’d started to think I might be a threat to him.

  When I opened my eyes again, the air was thick with steam. My head rolled to the side, and my eyes landed on the bathroom mirror. There was something there. I immediately jumped out of the bath. Dripping and naked, I stood in front of the mirror, where two words were scrawled. Leave Now! I reached out a finger and ran it across the L. The message had been written in soap.

  I grabbed a towel and headed out of the bathroom. I checked the closet, under the bed, and behind the curtains. There was no one hiding in the room. I spent ten minutes studying the back of the closet, searching for signs of a hidden door. There wasn’t one, I was sure of it. I returned to the bathroom. The fog had dissolved and the message was slowly disappearing. I wiped the soap off the glass with a washcloth.

  * * *

  —

  I paced the rose room for hours, waiting for da
rkness to fall. At around ten o’clock, I crawled into bed fully dressed. I wanted to be prepared for anything, and I didn’t think I would be able to sleep. My whole body was buzzing with anticipation. Lark’s father had said she came to the manor almost every night. She hadn’t shown up the previous evening, so I was convinced she would make an appearance before sunrise.

  I lay in bed, the hours passing, and yet no one arrived. Exhaustion was beginning to catch up with me. My eyelids drooped, and I felt myself sinking into the mattress. The next time I opened my eyes, I could see the sun just peeking over the mountains. A scrap of paper had been shoved under my door. On it was a hastily scrawled note from Miriam. Taped to the bottom was a key.

  I’ve been told to take two days off.

  There’s another big storm on its way.

  There may be power outages.

  You can’t be here on your own.

  Get to town, and Sam will pick you up there.

  She was right. It was starting to seem like Lark wouldn’t be coming. And I couldn’t be stuck in the manor with James.

  I threw on my coat as quickly as I could manage, grabbed my backpack, and crept down the stairs. Every time a floorboard creaked, I froze in fear. I turned each lock on the front door so slowly that it took minutes to get through them all. I opened the door a few millimeters at a time. But once I was out of the house, I ran faster than I’d ever run before.

  The sky was hanging heavily over Louth. I’d been in town long enough to know that it meant more snow would begin falling soon. As I raced down the drive, I glanced back over my shoulder. The sun was beginning to rise, and the manor’s windows were still dark. I picked up my pace and reached the bottom of the hill. Just when I was sure I’d made my escape, I heard the sound of an engine starting. A pair of headlights blinded me, and I shielded my eyes. Two doors opened and closed, followed by the sound of heavy boots on snow. Someone had been waiting for me. All I could see were the silhouettes of two men dressed in down coats. They were blocking the road to town. I spun around and started to run in the other direction.