Just the way she held herself told such a sad story. Her shoulders were hunched inward, an instinctively protective stance, and when she wasn’t gesticulating, she kept her hands wrapped around her arms. The girl radiated mistrust, but that might have been reserved just for Ani.
As they spoke, it had become increasingly obvious that Tori hadn’t been very well taken care of. Not that Ani expected a child of seventeen should be entirely innocent, but the girl’s eyes and the tired, wary way she carried herself belonged on a world-weary woman at least twice her age.
But she was fiery and pissed. Every single word Tori had spoken that day had dripped sarcasm and venom like ice cream melting in the heat of the desert, coating everything with an unpleasant tackiness that seemed to attract the dirt in the air.
Under other circumstances, Ani might have found the encounter unsavory and annoying. Teenagers had always tried her patience, but it was different with Tori. Ani hadn’t ever been good with failure, and the more she looked at the situation, the more she realized she had failed Tori miserably.
“Google. I can Google her.” Ani’s fingers flew across the keyboard. “Everyone Googles, right? It’s not creepy.” She spotted a social network entry that looked promising. “If she wanted her privacy, she would set her profile to . . .”
Tori’s profile was set to private.
Ani amused herself for a handful of seconds wondering what her sister’s reaction might be if she were to send a friend request. Then she thought of what her last profile picture had been—a picture of her with Mara—and she remembered she’d shut her account down.
Her life in social network statuses would have made for an interesting read these last few months.
Met my Jett and Mara’s murderer’s fiancé. It seems like it would be strange to love a murderer. I didn’t think to ask her about it at the time.
Ani Novak has added Victoria Kane as her sister.
Since Tori won’t let me help her, maybe I can help others in her situation.
Ani scoffed and rubbed a hand over her eyes. She remembered reading stories about people who had turned personal loss into something positive and productive. It was a nice idea in many ways. Maybe in a few years someone would write an interest piece in a magazine about how her family’s deaths prompted her to help kids in need so they wouldn’t grow up to shoot fathers holding their baby girls. But then she would have to tell her story again and again.
“Maybe it’s time to read a book. You have hundreds of unread books on the e-reader.” The thought of reading made her tired. “A class? There’s a cake decorating class at Michael’s.” She mapped out the nearest Michael’s in her head.
The park she’d met Tori and Shane at was between her house and Michael’s. If she knew where Tori lived, she might have driven by. Just to check.
Her cell phone rang. Ani cringed, but when she glanced at her phone, the number was unfamiliar. “Hello?” She could hear someone breathing on the other end, but no one spoke right away.
“Ani?” The voice sounded disgruntled.
Ani started and had to ask herself if she was dreaming. “I was just thinking about you.”
Tori scoffed. “Yeah, right.”
“It’s true. I—”
“I don’t care. Look, I need a favor from you.”
Ani drummed her fingers nervously on the steering wheel of her car, restless as she watched the sidewalk. Not for the first time, she wondered if Victoria—Tori, she’d said to call her—was playing some kind of trick on her, asking her to meet in this random parking lot at an odd time, on a very specific day. Tori had been insistent when she called that they had to meet that day.
Like the first time she’d met her sister, Ani had no idea what to expect. Tori had made it clear she didn’t want anything Ani could give her, so when she’d called, Ani couldn’t help but be suspicious. Her sister’s words were clipped but grudgingly appreciative, with an edge of what Ani thought might be desperation. Still, as long as Tori wasn’t up to something illegal, Ani supposed that most anything the girl could want would fall under the category of the least she could do.
She watched in her rearview mirror as her sister emerged from a neighborhood street about a block back. Tori walked with a gait that was too quick to look natural, more like she was trying not to look like she was running. When she slipped into the passenger seat, she was breathless.
Ani waited without speaking for Tori to start talking.
“Did you mean what you said about money?” Tori asked. Where her posture had been defiant the first time, now she was sagging. She looked down at her feet, and her cheeks burned red.
“Yes,” Ani answered carefully. “What—”
“Look, I really don’t want anything from you, okay?” Tori gulped in air as if she’d been running again. “I need three hundred dollars. I’m short that much. That’s all. And . . .” Again she paused and huddled even more in her seat. “I just need you to drop me off now and come back in an hour and a half. Then you can forget I ever existed again.”
Ani winced and stared at her little sister, anxiety churning in her gut. “Victoria, won’t you tell me what this is about? It’s not drugs or—”
“No!” The girl huffed, pulling up her legs on the seat and wrapping her arms around them. “Jesus Christ. Like I’m a fucking criminal or something. I’m asking you for one favor, and you—”
“Okay.” Ani held her hands up in a placating motion. “Okay. We’ll have to stop by an ATM. Just tell me where to go, and we’ll find one along the way.”
Tori mumbled the directions, and Ani drove, her heart racing, wondering what she had just agreed to. She worried, trying to figure how she might deal with the myriad of bad-news scenarios that ran through her head.
It took her several minutes to separate the quiet sniffling from the rest of the white noise at the edge of her awareness. Ani glanced over, surprised when she saw Tori’s eyes watering. As she watched, tears spilled over. Furiously, Tori swiped at her wet cheeks.
Not knowing what to say—everything she said seemed to only make things worse—Ani drove on.
When they arrived at their destination, understanding settled like a stone in Ani’s gut. Driving past a few protesters, she pulled into the parking lot of the women’s clinic and turned to look at her sister.
By then, Tori was leaning over, her head in her hands as her shoulders shook, though her tears were silent.
“Tori . . .” Ani fell silent when she realized she had no idea where to start.
“Don’t, okay?” Tori’s voice was a raw bark. “Just don’t.”
Ani blew out a sharp breath. “Okay, I get that you’re angry with me, but I’m concerned.” Making an effort to soften her tone, she spoke again. “You’re pregnant, aren’t you?”
For a second, Tori straightened up and it looked like she was going to start yelling again, but her lower lip began to tremble. She opened her mouth, but the only sound she made was a little gulping sound at the back of her throat. Then she crumpled forward, her head in her hands again as she sobbed in earnest.
Ani reached out with a tentative motion, expecting her sister to pull away from her touch. She rested her hand first on Tori’s shoulder. When she wasn’t met with resistance, she rubbed in soothing circles, the way she had when Mara was sick and whimpering.
“There are other options, you know.”
“What other options?” Tori sounded so miserable, the words muddled by sobs. “This is the only way.”
“It isn’t. Talk to me, sweetheart. I can help you. We can find out more about adoption, or—”
That brought all of Tori’s fury back. “Adoption? Adoption? That’s not an option.”
“Why—”
“Yeah, newborns have a better chance of being adopted, I’ll give you that, especially if they’re pretty, perfect, white babies. But if they aren’t, sometimes they get left behind, sometimes they aren’t good enough, and then wh
at? Then they end up in the fucking system?” She shook her head. “No way. I’m not doing that to another human being. I can’t just abandon the thing to some wishy-washy stranger. I can’t do what you did.”
Ani sucked in a sharp breath, stung as though she’d been slapped. For a moment, her vision swam, stuck between defensive anger and crushing guilt. When she had a chance to breathe, she tried again. “Victoria, I’m sorry. I’m sorry I wasn’t there for you before. If I had it to do over . . .” There wasn’t much she could say about the past. “But I’m here now. You obviously aren’t sanguine about—”
“Sanguine,” Tori repeated, her tone exasperated.
“It obviously doesn’t sit well with you, what you’re about to do here,” Ani reworded. “Please don’t get me wrong. I have no personal problem with abortion. It’s not about that. But you shouldn’t do it just because you feel you have no other choice. Talk to me. Let me help you, and if you still think this is the best option, we’ll take care of it.”
Ani waited for Tori to snap. The girl had angled her body away from her, but she was silent.
“If you can’t talk to me, then you should talk to someone. This is too much for anyone to carry on their own,” Ani said, taking the chance to speak while her sister wasn’t yelling.
“There’s no one.” The words were so quiet and defeated, it broke Ani’s heart.
“The father?”
“No!”
For long minutes, the only sound in the car was their shared breaths and Tori’s occasional sniffle.
It was all Ani could do to hold her tongue. She saw a chance to set right what had probably been her biggest mistake. If only Tori let her in, calmed just enough to see that she was genuine in her wish to help, maybe things could be okay. She could sense that her sister was on some sort of precipice, and if she fell over the edge, any potential for a relationship between them would be destroyed forever. Ani grasped for words that would draw Tori toward her, but she feared anything she said would push her away instead.
So she waited, trying not to show that she was going out of her skin with anxiety.
After an age, Tori drew in a deep, shuddering breath and put her hands over her eyes to cover fresh tears.
“Okay,” she said, the word so soft that Ani thought for a moment she might have imagined it.
Before Tori could change her mind, Ani started the car again and drove away from the clinic.
Chapter 4: The First Day of the Rest of Your Life
“What are you doing, V?”
Tori froze, feeling like a kid caught with her hand in the cookie jar. Or to be more accurate, with her hand in her dresser drawer.
She sighed. For the last two weeks, she’d been dreading this conversation. “I’m packing, B.”
“Well, yeah, I got eyes, but why?” She sat cross legged on Tori’s bed, looking perplexed.
“Okay.” Tori sat across from the younger girl. “I need you to not freak out on me, Brook.”
Instantly, the younger girl shrank back. “That’s the best way to make sure someone freaks out. Jeez.”
“I mean it,” Tori said, putting her hands on her shoulders. “I’m like this close to losing it myself, and I can’t deal with it tonight. I just can’t.”
Tori knew she was doing the worst possible job of keeping the younger girl calm, but she couldn’t help it. These last two weeks, after her failed attempt to get an abortion, she’d been a total wreck. She’d been holding it together, barely, but the thought of having to mitigate the younger girl’s imminent panic attack pushed her over the edge. Her voice wavered and cracked as she spoke, and she couldn’t hold back the stupid tears that suddenly welled in her eyes and spilled over. God, she was so sick of crying.
To her surprise, Brook hurried to her side and wrapped her in a big hug. “Okay. I’m not going to be upset if you promise not to be upset. I really suck at making people feel better.”
Tori’s answering laugh was thin and shaky. “You’re not as bad as you think.” Her heart twisted. Confessing to Brook was more difficult than Tori had thought it would be. “I’m leaving. Tomorrow.”
Shock and then dismay colored Brook’s features. “But how?” Tori could tell she was trying to keep her reaction under control, but her chin trembled. “Why? It’s the middle of the semester. Where? Are Stacey and Jeffery kicking you out? Did they seven-day you?” She crinkled her eyebrows. “Wait. If they seven-dayed you, Shane has seven days to find you a new place. It’s your birthday. You can’t leave on your birthday.”
“It being my birthday is exactly why I’m leaving. They can’t stop me. But I’m going to finish school.” She felt shitty about leaving Brook behind. “So I’ll be close by. And unless Stacey decides to be a bitch, I’ll come see you sometimes, just like we talked about.”
“But where are you going? Who are you going with?”
Tori grimaced. “You remember my sister?”
Brook nodded. “The one you said you hated? You’re going with her?”
“Yeah, well. The thing is, I’m going to have a baby.” The words came out in a rush, and she blushed scarlet as she stared down at the comforter. Saying it aloud made her feel dumb. Dumb and overwhelmed. She started to shake again.
“Oh. Oh, wow. That’s so awesome.” Brook bounced up, throwing her arms around Tori again.
“B.” Tori held the other girl at arm’s length. “This is not cool. This isn’t good. It’s fucking horrible, actually. It’s really fucked-up.”
Brook’s glee turned to confusion and then horror. “Is it . . . was it one of the boys?” She gasped. “Or Jeffery—”
There wasn’t a foster kid on the planet who wasn’t familiar with rape in all its permutations. Brook’s roommate, Helena, who rarely ever spoke, had been raped by her stepfather, so it was no small wonder that Brook couldn’t figure out why Tori was having fits if she hadn’t been touched that way.
“No. Ew. God, no. Jeffery’s a prick, but not that kind of prick.” Tori shuddered. “And the boys wouldn’t know what to do with a girl if they ever got one.” Two of the other foster kids in the house were brothers—Sebastian and Declan. They were obnoxious little turds, but they weren’t perverts. “I’m pretty sure Sebastian likes guys, anyway.”
“Well, was it someone else like that?”
“Brook.” The word came out as a whine, her voice gaining an edge of desperation. “I don’t want to talk about that, okay?” She had to brace herself against the dresser, lightheaded as her breath became thready. Maybe this was what Brook felt like when she was about to have a panic attack.
“Okay, okay,” the other girl said. “I don’t get it. If it wasn’t bad, then babies are good things, aren’t they?”
“Why do you think this is a good thing?” Tori shouted. She clamped her hands over her mouth, knowing her voice had risen to an unwise decibel. Brook was one thing, but she didn’t want anyone else in the house knowing about her little problem.
They were both still as they listened. When they were sure they hadn’t called attention to themselves, Brook spoke again. “Babies are so cute. I got to hold Madeline’s baby once.” Madeline had been Brook’s roommate before Helena. “He was so little.”
Brook’s cooing was making Tori sick to her stomach. She almost retched when her foster sister turned to her with a wistful smile and said, “I’m kind of jealous.”
When she was sure the little bit of dinner she’d managed to choke down wasn’t going to come back up again, Tori gripped the other girl’s shoulders and shook her. “This is not a good thing. Babies suck. They cry, and they whine, and they poop, and they . . . cry. They suck. And they just get more sucky and needy as they grow up. Eventually, they become us. Come on. What would you do with us?” She shook her head. “Just promise me, okay? You’re too smart for this shit. Promise me you won’t be stupid like I was.”
“You’re not stupid. And besides, it’s not like any boy is ever going to look at m
e like that.”
“Yeah, one day, a boy will. Just don’t, Brook.”
“Okay, okay. I get it. No babies.”
Tori put her arms around the other girl, holding her close and bumping their foreheads. If anyone had asked her before that minute what Brook meant to her, Tori probably would have answered that the younger girl was a pest. When she realized how much she was going to miss her friend, she tightened her grip, shutting her eyes tight because she wasn’t going to cry again. She just wasn’t.
“I’m going to be gone when you wake up in the morning.” Her voice trembled. “If they ask, you can tell them where I went. I don’t care. They won’t be able to get me back. Just remember, Stacey and Jeffery aren’t going to do anything to you, okay? They aren’t going to hit you. They just make you feel that way because they’re assholes.”
“Okay,” Brooklyn said, not holding back tears now.
The two girls held each other for a long time that evening.
At the end of the one therapy session Ani had attended months before, Dr. Galloway had suggested that she wasn’t in a place to benefit from his services.
“It’s not as abnormal as you might think,” he’d said, offering her a small smile. “You’ve suffered a terrible loss, but to this point, you seem to be coping, functioning. Yes, you have your moments, but the pain of grief is inevitable. I know you’ve heard this before, but the pain does get better with time, easier to breathe through. There is every possibility that you may deal with this tragedy without outside help.
“However, you also may be repressing your emotions. That’s not uncommon either.” He’d opened his hands wide. “It’s not something I could say from where we stand right now. Just be aware of yourself and your actions. Grief manifests, sometimes, in the oddest ways.”
Months later, Ani still struggled to accept the idea of mental challenges. The idea that misfiring synapses in her brain could make her see things that weren’t there made her very uncomfortable.
Finding Purgatory Page 3
