I turned and looked in the direction of the tunnel, wondering if I should go back and pretend I’d never meant to leave in the first place. I even took a step in that direction. But then I pictured Tasco’s face, and the faces of Billy Foster’s parents, and knew there were too many people I’d disappointed. Only in this world—my world—did I truly belong.
I turned away from the tunnel, away from the life I’d learned to love, and began walking again. A short time later I found the grove of trees where Hansen had died. I set my bag and backpack down and searched the area, but I could see no trace of Hansen or his blood. And there had been a lot of blood.
I got on my hands and knees and looked more closely, but there was nothing. Not even a drop of red. Either the place had been thoroughly cleaned, or the event hadn’t taken place. Yet.
Confused about when and where I was, I sat on the ground and leaned against a tree. The morning was chilly, but after all of my walking I didn’t feel cold. I pulled a granola bar out of my backpack and ate it, then drank some water.
The sun warmed my face and I closed my eyes as I soaked in the rays that shone down. After a few minutes I drifted off to sleep. When I woke I looked around, trying to get my bearings, and remembered what had happened.
Not eager to discover my fate, I let my mind wander as I thought about the things I’d experienced in the last year—being homeless, being taken to a F.A.T. center by my own parents, meeting Morgan, escaping Camp Willowmoss, joining Nick’s group, coming to Morgan’s world, meeting Billy Foster’s parents, and finally traveling back through the tunnel and finding myself here.
But where was here? I wasn’t sure. There was only one way to find out if I’d made it back to my world—and what the date was. That was to go to Morgan’s house and see who lived there. Scared to find out what I’d done, I slowly stood, then gathered my things and set off towards Fox Run.
I’d hiked this path twice before—when I’d gone with Morgan on her first attempt to return home, and when I’d successfully made it through on my own. It didn’t take long before I reached the edge of the forest. A few minutes later Morgan’s house came into view. It had become so familiar to me, and I paused as I looked at it.
What would I do without Morgan in my life? Maybe where I truly belonged was by Morgan’s side, regardless of which world I was in.
Sighing, I continued walking until I stood next to the low fence that surrounded Morgan’s front yard. To my surprise a dog that looked just like Goldie came racing around from the back of the house and stopped beside me on the other side of the fence.
“Goldie? Is that you?”
She pranced around, her tongue lolling out and her tail wagging.
She sure seemed like Goldie. Of course Goldie had existed in my world, but Morgan’s family no longer lived in this house when I knew her. Could I have gone back in time to before Morgan’s father had been taken to the Federally Assisted Thinning center? To before the time that the Morgan I knew had even arrived in my world?
All the possibilities made my head spin.
The mailbox caught my eye and I remembered the letter I’d left in there earlier. Could it still be there? If it was, that would mean I’d never left Morgan’s world. With trepidation, and more than a little hope, I walked over to the mailbox and reached for the handle that would open it.
Releasing a breath of air, I pulled the handle. My gaze darted to the inside of the dark box and I saw . . . nothing. It was empty. Disappointment crashed over me, taking me by surprise. Why wasn’t I happy that I’d made it back to my world? Isn’t that what I’d wanted?
No, I realized now that it was too late. I didn’t. I wanted to be with Morgan. With her family. With people who truly cared about me. I closed the mailbox and my shoulders slumped. I’d made a mistake in coming back to my world—a serious mistake. This world was not where I belonged anymore. I’d made my home in Morgan’s world. That was where I needed to be.
I wondered if the tunnel would lead me back, or if I was stuck here now. I turned to go, ready to let fate take me where it pleased, but then I heard Morgan’s front door opening. I spun around as my eyes sought out the person who had opened the door.
It was Morgan’s mother. Our eyes met, and for a moment she looked confused. Probably wondering what the boy with the garbage bag full of clothes was doing snooping through her mailbox. Fearful that she would call the Enforcers, I turned to go, but her voice stopped me cold.
“Billy?”
How did she know my name? Morgan’s mother in my world hadn’t met me when they lived here. Then a new possibility asserted itself. Maybe I was still in Morgan’s world after all. But if I was, where was my letter?
I turned to face her.
“Billy? What are you doing out there? Why aren’t you at school?” She stepped onto the porch and closed the front door.
Sweet joy blazed through me as I understood that I’d failed in my quest to get back to my world. I’d failed, and I was beyond thrilled. “Hi, Mrs. Campbell,” I said, my voice shaking.
“Billy, come here,” she said.
Without a second thought, I obeyed, and when I stood on the porch in front of her, I felt tears trying to push into my eyes. I rubbed them away before they had the chance to make themselves visible.
“What’s going on?” she asked. “Why are you here on a school day?” She looked at the garbage bag hanging over my shoulder. “What’s that?”
“It’s all of my clothes,” I said, opting to answer the simplest question first.
“Your clothes? Why are you carrying all of your clothes?” Her eyes became round as understanding seemed to dawn. “Did Richard ask you to leave?”
“It was my choice.” I didn’t think it was fair to blame Tasco. He’d given me the chance to stay, but I’d decided not to tell him the truth. I couldn’t tell him the truth. If I’d told him the truth he would have kicked me out for sure. I smiled at the irony.
“But why? Was it not working out?”
“It had to do with my . . . well, with Billy Foster’s parents.”
“Oh.” She gazed at me a moment. “Why don’t you come in and you can tell me about it?”
I followed her inside, and as we entered the living room a feeling of peace swept over me. This was what home felt like. Why hadn’t I recognized it before? Maybe because it was so new to me.
I set my bag and backpack on the floor, then sat on the couch while Morgan’s mom sat on a recliner.
“Tell me what happened,” she said, her face showing genuine concern.
I told her how Billy Foster’s parents had come over to Tasco’s house and shown him the family photo and the obituary, then how Tasco had demanded to know what was going on. “He told me if I didn’t tell him the truth, I would have to leave.” A half-smile formed on my face. “Well, you know that I couldn’t tell him the truth. Even if I did, he wouldn’t believe me.” I frowned. “So I left.”
“Oh, Billy. I’m so sorry.” She leaned forward and placed her arms on her knees as she looked at me a moment. “You can stay here.”
My eyebrows rose at the unexpected invitation. “Really?”
“Of course.” She sat up. “Where else would you go?”
I shrugged. Where else would I go? I had no idea.
She smiled. “Then it’s settled.”
Warmth surged through me. She actually wanted me to stay. She wasn’t doing anyone a favor like Tasco had done, or taking pity on me. She was actually choosing to have me stay. “I . . . I don’t know what to say.” Tears rushed to my eyes. “Thanks.”
She was being so good to me that I was tempted to tell her about my attempt—my failed attempt—to go back to my world. But I decided telling her wouldn’t help anyone, and I wasn’t so sure I wanted Morgan to know. Which reminded me . . . “I left a note for Morgan in your mailbox, but it’s not there now.”
“Oh,” she said with a smile. “Our mailman comes early, and I found it when I got the mail.”
Pan
ic that she’d read it—and now knew my secret—swept over me. “Did you . . ?”
“No,” she said with a laugh. “I didn’t read it.” She stood. “I’ll get it for you.”
A moment later she handed me the letter, still folded neatly into thirds. “Thanks.” I gazed at the letter a moment, then looked at her. “Are you sure your husband will be okay with me staying here?”
“Don’t you worry about that, Billy. I’ll work it out with him. I know he’ll do what’s right.”
Peace settled over me, and I sank back into the couch cushions.
“Do you want me to take you to school?” she asked. “Have you eaten?”
I smiled, comforted to know she cared. “No, and no.”
“Come in the kitchen then, and I’ll make you some lunch.”
Chapter 51
Morgan
Wanting to avoid Hannah and Sara and the need to give them any kind of decision about being their spokesperson, when school finished I went straight to my locker and got my things, then hurried outside to wait for Mom.
“Hey, Morgan,” Hannah said as she stopped next to me a few minutes later, thwarting my plan to not be found.
“Hey.”
“You’ve had some time to think about it, so . . .” Hope and eagerness filled her face.
I gazed at this girl who I’d impersonated at Camp Willowmoss. She’d taken a huge risk for me so that I could help my sister. In fact, I wondered if she’d been punished in the other world as surely the Enforcers would have found her and questioned her—maybe even tortured her. All because she helped me.
As fearful as I was of getting into trouble for being part of hacking into a government database, I wouldn’t actually be the one doing it. All I would be agreeing to is to be a sort of spokesperson for this resistance that was springing up. Where was the danger in that?
Besides, it was the least I could do for Hannah—even if it wasn’t this Hannah who had risked so much for me. I stared at her a moment, then without allowing myself to think of all the reasons why I should say no, I said, “Okay. Yeah. I’ll do it.”
“Yay!” With a wide grin, she jumped up once, then reached out and squeezed my arm. “This is going to be so awesome. They won’t know what to do with us.”
I feared that they would know exactly what to do with us—and it wouldn’t be pleasant. But I just nodded.
A horn honked, and I saw Mom pulling up to the curb. “I’ve gotta go.”
“Okay,” she said. “I’ll text you later.”
Trying not to think about what I’d just agreed to, I walked towards Mom’s car and was surprised to see Billy in the back seat. I’d heard nothing from Rochelle, so I’d been worried about Billy all day. What was he doing in my mom’s car?
I opened the passenger door and immediately looked at Billy. “Where have you been?”
My question seemed to surprise him. “What do you mean? How do you know I’ve been somewhere?”
“I called Rochelle at lunch and she said you weren’t at school today.”
“Climb in, honey,” Mom said.
I glanced at her, then got into the car and closed the door. Mom pulled away from the curb and I turned to Billy. “You didn’t go to school, right?”
“No.”
“Why didn’t you go to school? What did you do all day?” Billy glanced at my mom before looking back at me, and I realized that maybe he didn’t want to talk about it in front of my mom. “Never mind,” I said. “You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to.” But you’d better tell me later, I said with my eyes.
He smiled. “I already told your mom, but I’d rather explain when we get to your house.”
He’d already told my mom? What was that all about? And what exactly had he told her? “Okay.” I turned around in my seat, my curiosity piqued, and stared at the road as Mom drove.
When we reached home, Mom turned off the car then looked at me. “Why don’t you and Billy go on a walk? I’ll bring your backpack in for you.” Startled at her suggestion, and wondering what could be going on, I just nodded.
“Come on, Morgan,” Billy said as he got out of the car.
More intrigued than ever, I got out too, and when Billy took my hand and led me down the driveway, I went willingly. “What’s going on?”
He smiled at me. “A couple of things have happened since I saw you last.”
“Okay.”
He told me how Billy Foster’s parents had shown up at Tasco’s house the night before, and how Tasco had gotten mad at him for not explaining how he was in their family picture. “I couldn’t tell him the truth, so I had to leave.”
I gently squeezed his fingers that were intertwined with mine. “I’m so sorry.” He’d been through so much in his life, and now this. “What are you going to do?”
He laughed. “Well . . .”
I looked at him with expectation—clearly he had more news to share. “Well what?”
“Your mom said I could stay with you guys.”
I stopped and turned to face him. “Seriously?”
“Yeah.”
“That’s awesome.” I dropped his hand and threw my arms around his neck, and his arms slid around my waist. Pressing my cheek against his shoulder, we held onto each other for a while. “I’m so glad, Billy.”
“Me, too.” He pulled back and looked at me. “You have no idea.”
“I can move in with Amy,” I said, my mind whirling with solutions to the challenge of having an additional person in our house. “And you can move in to my room.”
“That’s nice of you, but no.”
“What? Then where are you going to sleep?”
“On the couch.”
“The couch? That’s no place to live.”
He smiled as he stroked my face. “Your mom and I already talked about it, and for now at least, I’m going to take up residence on the couch.”
I didn’t like the way that felt so temporary. I wanted him to have a permanent home. Which made me think of Billy Foster’s parents. “Billy, if your . . . well, Billy Foster’s parents. If they want you to be their son so badly, why don’t you want to see what they’re like?”
Chapter 52
Billy
“I don’t know, Morgan,” I said. And I didn’t. The idea definitely had appeal, but it was fraught with challenges too.
“Why not?” Her voice softened. “What’s the worst that can happen?”
What was the worst that could happen? “Let’s see.” I thought of all of the worst-case scenarios. “They could hate me and kick me out. They could insist I explain how I exist, and then when I can’t, they’d kick me out. They could end up being worse than my parents, although I don’t know how that’s possible.” I paused. “Yes, I do. They could turn me over to the police and tell them I’m running some type of scam.” I tapped my chin. “What else? Oh yeah, they could try to make me over so that I’m just like their son, and when that doesn’t work, they’d kick me out.” I smiled at Morgan, but it was forced. “That’s all I can think of off the top of my head, but you may have noticed that they all end up the same way. Me being out on the street again.”
That’s what terrified me the most. I’d just had an offer from Morgan’s mom to let me move into their house. Why should I turn that down on the off chance that complete strangers would like me well enough to let me live with them? It sounded like a risk I didn’t want to take.
“Okay,” Morgan said. “I can see your point, but you need to look at the other side of it too.”
“What do you mean?”
She laughed. “You’re so used to everything going wrong, you can’t even consider how getting to know them could end up being a good thing, can you?”
A good thing? I thought about that and realized she was right. It was like I was programmed to expect the worst. But that was only because the worst is what I’d always gotten. “Okay, tell me what you think could happen.”
She smiled. “All right. You spend time w
ith them, get to know them, and they love you and want to be your parents. They know you’re not the son who died, they know you’re different, but they love you anyway. You fill a hole in their hearts, but you also become a son to them—their second son.” Her voice softened. “Don’t you see, Billy? You need to give them a chance.”
Trying to visualize what she described, I imagined coming home from school and having my mother hug me, happy to see me. I saw my father coming home in the evening, then working with me side by side. I pictured myself sitting with them at the dinner table with them listening with sincere interest as I told them about my day. Warmth surged into my chest at the possibility of having my own family. Not this transient life I’d been living, but a permanent and loving home.
Was it truly possible for me? I knew it was possible in general—I only had to look at Morgan’s family to see that such a family existed. But was it possible for me? Maybe I should give them a chance. What’s the worst that could happen, really? They reject me? I’d had plenty of rejection in my life. I could take it if it happened again. Especially if not taking that chance meant bypassing the one and only opportunity I would have to be with people who were as close to being my parents as anyone ever could be.
“Maybe you’re right,” I said.
She gazed at me a moment. “Does that mean you’re willing to give them a chance?”
I rubbed the back of my neck as I considered her question. “Yeah. I guess I am.”
Smiling, she nodded. “That’s great.”
“Well, I guess we’ll find out how great it is soon enough.” I had no idea how to proceed. “What should I do? Just show up at their house?”
“Do you know their phone number?”
“The man . . .” I laughed at the absurdity of the situation. “My father? He gave his card to Tasco, so I could get it from him.”
After (Parallel Series, Book 4) Page 22
