Ugh. His exasperated look. She shrugged. What was she supposed to have done?
He glanced toward the house like it was registering for the first time. “The house—it looks…wow. It really burned up.”
“Yeah, it’s bad.”
“Were you home? Or were you over at Karen’s? Did you leave the stove on?”
“Dad, it wasn’t my fault.”
“I’ve always had to tell you to be careful.”
No, you just never trust me. “It was some kind of explosion.” The fire bombs Horace’s father threw at the house were to blame.
“Why is the Jeep in the shop? What did you do to it?”
“The axle? Remember?”
“You didn’t tell me about that. Don’t think I’m going to pay for more car problems if you and Michelle don’t take better care of it. And now your phone and cello. You’re killing me.”
Chloe sure hadn’t missed her dad’s antagonism. And his lack of attention to what happened to her. How could he forget about her car accident? How could he care more about her phone than her own safety? But she didn’t want a lecture about expenses, and she couldn’t even think of her cello yet, so she changed the subject. “I talked to Mom. They’re on their way back. I forgot to ask when they’re getting back.”
“They land tonight at eight. She’s been leaving me messages all day. Where are you going to stay?”
Really, Dad? Really? “Well, I thought with you. I can’t stay here.”
“What about Karen? Can’t you stay there?”
“Kaitlyn. Her name is Kaitlyn. I don’t know. She isn’t home right now.”
“Your mom can get a hotel or something.”
“I thought we’d stay with you.” She wasn’t going to let him off so easily.
He took a deep breath. An irritated deep breath. “I guess you can come. Just while you wait for the plane. I have plans tonight. Who’s going to pick them up? Did she say?”
Chloe wanted to scream obscenities at him. Was he really so awful?
“We can’t afford a hotel. You got all the money. And the house. And the dog. Remember?”
“Don’t get smart with me, Chloe. I get enough of that from Michelle. I thought you were more mature than her. You give me grief, I’ll just drive away right now and you can figure this out yourself. I didn’t have to come over, you know. I’m doing you a favor.”
“You’re my dad. I shouldn’t have to ask you to take care of me. You’re supposed to take care of me. That’s what dads do. Especially when their kids are abandoned and alone and the house they’re borrowing burns down.”
That did it. He jumped back in the Audi, slammed the door, and squealed away like a teenager.
Great. Dad is having a fit worse than Benji.
She should have kept her mouth shut. Now what would she do? Hopefully, Horace would appear any minute and solve everything.
Chloe walked down the street toward Federal Boulevard. It was taking longer than she’d expected for Horace to come back. With time travel, shouldn’t he be able to leave, go to sixteenth-century Scotland, pick up Kaitlyn then come right back to when he’d left? She shouldn’t have to feel any time pass.
She walked back toward the house. She was pacing, city blocks at a time. It was taking too long. Where is Horace?
***
When Kaitlyn woke up, slanted morning sun rays were filtering through the thinnest of the trees. It took a minute to figure out where she was. When she finally did, she felt nothing. The terror from the night before was gone. Or it was suppressed so deeply inside she couldn’t feel it.
Billy looked so young and small in the daylight. His wound was massive but it didn’t affect her now. She kept her eyes from looking at the witch. Even without feeling, she didn’t want to see the headless body or the detached head.
Birds chirped now in all the trees, calling back and forth, cooing, tweeting, and clicking. A squirrel chattered not too far away. Something to her right rattled and cracked the dried leaves but didn’t come out for her to see.
This is stupid. Was she going to stay in the forest for the rest of her life even if Horace didn’t show up? She stood up and held the leg that was asleep very still. She waited till the buzzing stopped. And she decided what she would do.
Her gown was stiff with brown stains. She wanted it off. She tore it from the bodice, leaving just her underskirt. It was almost as bloody, with the rust splotch soaked into the fibers of the white cotton. She’d ignore it. Because she had to.
She laid the skirt out next to Billy, staying as far from the witch as possible, and moved Billy’s body onto the fabric. She wrapped him in the cloth, like a shroud, tightly but gently. She lifted him into her arms and left the forest.
It took her a few turns and retraced steps to find her way to the road. Once she did, she found the mule Horace had been riding, munching grass sparkling with dew. She lifted Billy’s body onto the mule’s back and pulled her by the dangling lead up the road toward the village.
***
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