The Fire and the Veil (Veronica Barry Book 2)

by Sophia Martin

  Veronica watched her stride through the classroom to Angie’s table. Lola dropped her backpack, just like always, and slumped into her chair. It made Veronica wonder how often she’d come to school after some horrible scene like the one that had taken place last night. She certainly seemed to be going about business as usual.

  Veronica had yet to call CPS. Now she began to wonder if she should. Maybe nothing had happened last night, after all. Maybe these Lola dreams really were just nightmares, and nothing more. Surely, if Lola had been kicked out as Veronica had seen, she would not be sitting in class now, looking around sullenly.

  Maybe it would be best to try to investigate a little herself, before calling CPS in to do it.

  Veronica made her way over to Lola’s side. Lola glanced up at her, but she had earphones in her ears. She began tapping the table in rhythm to the music, gazing at Veronica defiantly. Electronics were supposed to be off and out of sight—it was a school-wide policy. So Lola was spoiling for a fight. Veronica decided to try to avoid giving her one.

  Lola looked away, so Veronica touched her arm to get her attention, but instead of engaging her in a conversation, Veronica’s sight shifted into a vision.

  There was a little girl—Leinani?—on a pink bicycle, peddling hard down the street of a neighborhood of small, low houses and lots of trees. Behind her a larger boy with pale blond hair on a skateboard was catching up. The little girl looked around. Her face was pale and her eyes were wide, and she was breathing hard. And Veronica recognized her: not Leinani, but little Lola. Maybe fourth grade Lola.

  The girl tried to peddle harder, but still the boy gained, and the girl looked around again. This time, it was Leinani.

  Veronica stepped away and the vision ceased. She was standing in her classroom again, and Lola was glaring at her. Veronica sucked on her teeth, uncertain about what to do, or how to interpret what she had just seen. On any other day she might have asked Lola to stick around a few minutes into lunch, so she could talk to her privately. She would have tried to ask some questions, to see if she could figure out what was going on. But today she was leaving early. Khalilah would be picking her up in fifteen minutes.

  A student raised his hand, so Veronica went over to help him. Then she went back to her desk and hurriedly printed out an info sheet on Lola and stuffed it in her bag. Just as she did, the classroom door opened and the substitute, a gray-haired man in a sweater and jeans, entered.

  Veronica greeted him, all the while trying to decide what to do. She didn’t want to leave without talking to Lola, but she also didn’t want to do it in front of the class, and she was sure that Lola would make a scene if she tried to get her to step out into the hall or something.

  Finally she finished giving the sub his instructions and introducing him to the class, and she bit her lip, looking at the clock. Khalilah would be in the parking lot in less than five minutes.

  Veronica walked over to Lola and Angie’s table again. Angie was turned away, working with the other couple at the neighboring table that Veronica had assigned her to after Lola stormed out last time. Veronica crouched so that she was lower than Lola, and could look up into her face and speak softly, without the other students hearing, she hoped.

  Lola glowered at her. Veronica gestured to her ears, motioning for Lola to remove the earphones. Lola rolled her eyes, but to Veronica’s relief, she took them out.

  Veronica pondered how to approach this. She could try out the lie about hearing students talking about Lola’s family situation, but that might bring unwanted consequences, if Lola decided to punish whoever she assumed had talked about her. Veronica decided not to lie. She would try to avoid saying too much about her ability, and focus on her concern for Lola.

  “Hey,” she said softly. “How are you doing?”

  Lola cracked a bitter half-grin. “Me? I’m dandy.”

  Veronica nodded. “How are things at home?”

  Lola shifted in her seat, glancing around. “Fine.”

  Veronica frowned. “Really? Because I thought maybe you got kicked out last night.”

  Lola paled and glanced around again. Veronica looked around, too. No one seemed to be paying any attention to them. The sub was talking, and some kids were listening to him, but most were talking to each other.

  “Where’d you hear that?” Lola asked in a low voice.

  “Is it true?”

  Lola’s chin jutted out and she crossed her arms over her chest, slumping down further into her chair.

  “Did your step-father hurt you, Lola?”

  Lola found a spot on the floor to stare at.

  Veronica took this show of attitude to be confirmation that her dream had been accurate, after all. Lola was a tough girl, and she could pull off getting kicked out and still make it to school the next day. After all, they had food here. If Lola was on the street, it would be in her interest to come to school. She could be warm, sitting in the classrooms, and she could eat lunch, particularly since she qualified for a free one, Veronica recalled from reading her file.

  Veronica only had one more thing to ask.

  “Who was the boy, Lola? The one chasing you on the bike?”

  Lola’s eyes shot towards her, and she pushed her chair away with a screech. “What the fuck,” she whispered.

  Veronica held the edge of the table with one hand for balance, but the other hand she held up, palm out, as a gesture of peace. “It’s okay, just tell me,” she said. “Did he hurt you? Is he going to hurt Leinani?”

  Lola’s jaw dropped, and she stood up, knocking over the chair. Now everyone was staring. Lola looked around the class, eyes wide. She stumbled and grabbed her bag, then ran for the door.

  “Lola!” Veronica called. “Wait!”

  Lola exited, and Veronica chased after her, catching the door as it swung.

  “Wait! I can explain how I know!”

  Lola stopped in the middle of the hall. Her back was tense. She turned slowly and looked at Veronica.

  Veronica took a step towards her, but she could see the stress in Lola’s legs. She was going to bolt again. “Lola, it’s okay. It’s just something I can do. I can see things, sometimes. You were thinking about him, right? You were thinking about him chasing you, and then you were thinking about him chasing Leinani.”

  Lola shook her head, and then she turned and tore off down the hall again.

  Veronica sighed. So much for the direct approach. How was she supposed to use this gift if it meant lying all the time? Lying was too tricky. But apparently telling the truth wasn’t necessarily the answer, either.

  She pulled her phone out of her pocket and checked the time. 11:02. Khalilah was either already waiting or about to arrive. Veronica called her.

  “Hey,” Khalilah answered. “You ready?”

  “I’ll be out there in five minutes,” Veronica said.

  “Okay.”

  Veronica went back into her classroom, grabbed her purse, and waved to the students as she left. Then she jogged as quickly as she dared, under the watchful eyes of the supers, to the main office and the cumulative file closet.

  She let herself in and yanked the drawer with Lola’s file. She pulled the file out and laid it open as fast as she could without sending papers flying everywhere. She flipped through. There it was, a list of family members, dated last year. Mother: Terri Carver, Step-father: Owen Carver, sister: Leinani Hekili, step-brother: Paul Carver.

  Okay, thought Veronica. Now all I need is to see a photo of Paul Carver. Was he a student here at Eleanor Roosevelt?

  Veronica checked the time on her phone. She had two more minutes. She slapped Lola’s file closed and shoved it back in its spot in the drawer. Without knowing Paul’s age, she couldn’t find his file quickly. He had to be a junior or senior, because he was older than Lola, but that was all she could figure. If she checked both drawers, she’d take too long. With a groan, she pulled the senior drawer. No Paul Carver.

  Well, he had looked a good deal older in the v
ision. Maybe he had already finished high school.

  Veronica sighed and left the closet, trotting out to the parking lot. She’d check her yearbooks when she got home later, she promised herself. But she was pretty sure she knew. Paul Carver was the boy in Lola’s mind. He’d terrified Lola when she was little. He might even be the reason Lola changed the way she did—if his father Owen hadn’t taken care of that already. And Lola was afraid, now, for her sister.

  Veronica spotted Khalilah’s car idling near the exit of the lot. She ran over and let herself into the passenger seat. “Sorry for the wait,” she said breathlessly, shutting the door.

  Khalilah revved the engine and then pulled out of the lot. “I’m just glad we could do this. I didn’t sleep most of the night worrying about Amani. It’s been six days, Veronica. She was abducted six days ago. I can’t believe it’s taken me so long to find her. I should have called the police.”

  Veronica blinked at her. “What about everything you said, about her family?”

  “It’s not going to matter what they might do if she’s already dead.”

  Veronica took a deep breath. She hoped they found Amani, soon. She didn’t think Khalilah had been wrong to avoid bringing in the police. In any case, without Jahid’s testimony as a witness to Amani’s abduction, Daniel had said there was little he could do. At best the police would consider her a missing person, Veronica supposed. And it certainly didn’t sound like Jahid was willing to make a report.

  Veronica clenched her fingers into fists. But what if he was willing? Maybe he was just nervous. He was a refugee from Iraq, after all. On top of everything he’d endured in his own country—some of it probably at the hands of the authorities—he had to have experienced a certain amount of hatred here in the U.S. as well. That alone would make him reluctant to trust Americans, she figured. And then layer on the expectations of his brother and the tribal laws he’d been raised with. So of course he didn’t want to go to the police. But from everything Khalilah had said about him, Veronica had also gotten the sense that he loved his daughter. So maybe he might have been convinced. Maybe if they had just gone ahead and reported the abduction, when the police came around to question him about what he saw, he would have told the truth.

  It wasn’t too late, Veronica thought. She glanced over at Khalilah. They could still report it now.

  “I could call Daniel,” Veronica said.

  Khalilah’s eyes cut to her, and then focused back on the road.

  “I could tell him not to bother with the secrecy. To go ahead and talk to people in Missing Persons about it.”

  Khalilah pursed her lips in thought. Then with a little sigh, she nodded. “Do it. Call him. Either we find her today, before the cops have a chance to talk to Jahid, or we don’t, and we need the cops involved anyway.”

  Veronica nodded and dug her phone out of her pocket. She hit “three” to speed dial Daniel. She listened, but it went to his voicemail. With a twinge, she wondered if he had screened her call. They hadn’t exactly parted on good terms the day before.

  “Daniel, it’s me, Veronica,” she said. “Look, Khalilah and I agreed, you should go ahead and talk to whoever it is you know in Missing Persons. Tell them everything. We can’t just leave Amani with this person who took her. We have to find her. That’s the most important thing right now. Okay. Thanks.”

  She ended the call. With a deep breath she looked at Khalilah. “You know, Daniel said they would be able to protect Amani from her family.”

  Khalilah nodded. “I just hope that’s enough.” She took Business 80, driving into the Arden area.

  Veronica thought of Yesenia Saleh. She wondered if Jahid or Hamza Ahmad would decide to blame Yesenia, if the opportunity arose. Veronica gazed at Khalilah. Would they turn on Khalilah? Hadn’t Khalilah talked to Jahid about going to the police? Maybe he’d realize that Khalilah was the one who called them. Would he want to kill her for that? Would he find some way to twist things, to blame her for Amani’s abduction? Or would he be grateful, if the police found Amani?

  “Here it is,” Khalilah said. She stopped the car in a parking spot in front of a small supermarket. The sign above the doors read “Mediterranean Market.” Veronica got out, and Khalilah followed behind.

  Veronica took a deep breath, and started towards the doors of the market. Then she stopped. There was a shimmering in the sunlight, in front of the doors.

  Khalilah came to a stop by her side. “What’s wrong?” she asked.

  The shimmering became denser. It was a ghost.

  “Um, it’s…” Veronica paused.

  “You see something?”

  “You could say that. A, um, ghost. Right in front of us.”

  Khalilah whipped her face forward, peering into the air.

  “Uh… hello,” Veronica said to the shade.

  Don’t go in.

  Veronica shivered. “Why not?”

  You won’t find her there.

  “Well, I didn’t expect her to be in the store.”

  You’re looking in the wrong place.

  Khalilah looked around, grasping Veronica’s arm. “What is it saying?”

  “That we’re looking in the wrong place. Which I appreciate, for once. Why haven’t you guys been a little more helpful with all of this? A woman is in serious trouble.”

  They don’t want you to find her.

  “They? They who?”

  The others. The ones who follow you.

  “The ones who follow me?” Veronica breathed. It wasn’t like she hadn’t suspected, but to have it confirmed… she wondered who they were. How many of them were there? Then she thought about what he’d said. They didn’t want her to find Amani. Why the hell not? And why was this one different?

  “Why are you here?” she asked.

  You helped me once. Do you remember?

  The shade became more distinct. It was an older man, wearing a red shirt with white pin stripes. His eyes were sunken, lost in the shadows of his face. It was amazing, seeing him so distinctly. She rarely saw any of them this clearly.

  “You were the man by the ATM,” Veronica said. “You helped me find Angie.”

  Yes, and you brought my killer to justice.

  His mouth didn’t move when he spoke—his face remained immobile. It gave Veronica the creeps. “I don’t remember doing that,” she said.

  You told the detective his name.

  “Oh,” Veronica said. She did vaguely remember doing that—the spirit told her the name of his killer, and she’d passed the information on to Daniel, but she’d been so focused on finding Angie at the time, it had completely slipped her mind. “Well, you already helped me—you don’t owe me anything.”

  I have joined the ones that follow you.

  “Okay,” Veronica said, unsure of how she felt about that.

  They don’t want you to find Amani Ahmad. Watching him, he seemed to be losing substance. She wondered if it was hard, taking shape like he had. But you will keep looking?

  “Yes,” Veronica said. He was fading. She could still see the red of his shirt, but not much else.

  Soon enough, there will be trouble.

  “Alright,” Veronica said. His shape shimmered in the light, as if it was breaking up.

  Look for the Walnut. Peach Walnut.

  He was gone. Veronica took a step forward, reaching out a hand for where he had been.

  “What is it saying?” Khalilah asked, her eyes wide.

  “He’s gone,” Veronica murmured.

  “Well, what did he say, then?”

  “Nothing that made much sense. Just that this wasn’t the place to find out where Amani is, and that there’s going to be trouble, and that the other spirits don’t want me to find her. I don’t get that!”

  Khalilah looked around. “So all he did was tell you not to look here? He didn’t give you any other details?”

  “Well, he said one other thing, but it didn’t mean anything to me.”

  “What, Veronica?”
>
  “He said to look for the walnut. And something about a peach.”

  Khalilah let out a breath. “So, maybe Amani’s captor’s house has a walnut tree? And a peach tree?”

  “And what good does that do us? It’s not like there aren’t hundreds of houses in Sac with trees! I wouldn’t even know what a walnut tree looks like.”

  “And now he’s… gone?”

  “Yes. He either got too tired from making himself visible to me or…”

  “Or what?”

  “Or maybe the other spirits interfered with him.”

  “Do they do that?”

  “I have no idea,” Veronica said.

  Khalilah groaned. “So we’ve hit another wall.”

  “Yep,” Veronica said, nodding and chewing on her bottom lip. She was furious that the spirits were refusing to help her. Was her mother among them? Of course she was. What the hell was Alcina’s problem?

  Khalilah stood, silent, for a few moments longer. Veronica watched people going in and out of the market.

  “Look, I’ll drive you home, okay?” Khalilah said.

  “Yeah,” Veronica said, feeling helpless. “At least we told the police.”

  Khalilah nodded. “Yeah. There’s that.”

  But Veronica didn’t feel good about it, and she could tell Khalilah didn’t either. What were they supposed to do now, just sit back and wait? Hope that the police found Amani? Hope that Amani’s family didn’t try to hurt anyone? This was insufferable.

  ~~~

  At least I can do something for Lola,Veronica thought, dialing her cell with determination as soon as she stepped in her living room.

  “Alright, please describe the incident,” the social worker who took her call said.

  Veronica sat on her couch, looking at the crumpled sheet of paper she’d printed out from her classroom computer. “I overheard my student, Lola Hekili, talking to a peer in my classroom today,” she lied into the phone. “Would you like me to spell her name?”

  “Go ahead,” the woman on the other end said flatly.

  “Her given name is Dolores, D-O-L-O-R-E-S, but she goes by Lola, L-O-L-A. Last name, Hekili, H-E-K-I-L-I. Anyway, she was telling this other student that her step-father got angry last night.” Veronica hoped the woman wouldn’t ask for the name of the other student, and so far it seemed she wouldn’t. “He yanked her by the hair, punched her, and pushed her over the edge of the stairs. Lola said she was able to catch herself before she really fell.”