by Mia Sheridan
“I hope it works out.” Sister Madge stood and so did Scarlett. The old nun came around the desk and opened the door. “I need to head downstairs as well. I’ll walk you back to fetch your little girl. Haddie, was it?”
“Yes,” Scarlett said as she stepped through the door of the simple house after Sister Madge, and they walked side by side down the path, through the back door, and downstairs, stepping out into the wide-open space Scarlett assumed was used for church business events and socials, and came to stand in front of the large glass window. “That’s her right there,” Scarlett said, pointing to where Haddie sat in a chair against the wall, her face focused down on the book in her lap.
“Hmm,” Sister Madge hummed, her head tilted as she gazed at Haddie. “Beautiful child.” She looked up at Scarlett. “So many would give anything to have such a precious gift.”
Scarlett nodded, smiling even as additional unease pinched her chest. Odd thing to say. “She is a gift.”
“Indeed. We’d just love to have her as part of the church youth group. Of course, that won’t be for some time as she’ll need to be thirteen, but you keep that in mind.”
Scarlett couldn’t even begin to imagine her daughter as a teenager. Not yet. Still, she smiled at the nun. “Oh. Absolutely. I will. I’d love Haddie to be very involved in the community.”
Sister Madge’s smile widened. “I do hope so, dear.”
“Thank you again, Sister.”
“Of course. If you need anything, just call. Farrow has always come together for its residents during any time of need, big or small. We take pride in a long history of caring for our own.” And with that, Sister Madge gave her one last smile and then turned, heading for the stairwell.
Scarlett opened the door, seeing Ruth on the other side of the room and shooting her a smile that faded quickly when Ruth didn’t smile back, but instead gave her a thin-lipped look of disapproval, heading to where she stood. Scarlett glanced quickly at Haddie, who was still sitting with her head bowed. It was only then she noticed that her shoulders were shaking very slightly as though she was crying. That pinch of unease gripped tighter. She took a step toward her child, turning back at Ruth’s voice directly behind her.
“Ms. Lattimore.”
“Ruth, what happened? Is everything okay?”
“I’m afraid not. Haddie said something quite cruel to Mikey.” She nodded her head to a little disabled boy propped in a chair by the window, his legs encased in metal braces, head tilted, a thin line of spittle running down his chin.
Confusion swept through Scarlett. Haddie had said something cruel? “What did she say?”
“Robby heard her tell Mikey that he was nothing. Nothing at all. Bullying is not tolerated here, Ms. Lattimore. She is not welcome back.”
CHAPTER ELEVEN
Thirteen Years Ago
She needed a cell phone, any cell phone. And not because she intended on making a call, even if she could find a spot where there was service. Like she’d told her new roommates, no one was going to believe a word she said. The past few years had ensured that. She had a feeling the greeting she’d received from Ms. Wykes was only the tip of the iceberg around here as far as abnormal—and perhaps illegal—practices occurred. What she needed was video.
The sounds of dishes clattering softly behind her faded as she made her way down the hall, ducking into the bathroom, waiting a few minutes by the door, and then peeking out. No one had followed her. She walked quickly toward Ms. Wykes office, glancing behind her every few steps to make sure she wasn’t spotted. She had slipped out the side door when the other girls at her table rose to dish up their plates. Thankfully the table she’d been assigned to was near the back of the room, somewhat obscured by the other tables. She’d slip back in when the other students were busy clearing the tables and bussing their dishes.
She heard the sound of footsteps from above and halted, waiting as they faded away, moving toward another wing of the second floor. A staff member most likely. She was still new enough that she could fake being lost, but the longer she was here, the flimsier that excuse would look.
She took a deep breath when she’d made it to the door. She’d waited almost two weeks, biding her time, acting like a good little girl, but it was now the third Monday of the month, and she was ready. She’d watched Ms. Wykes leave out the front door as they’d been heading to the dining room, a small, black purse held over one arm. She’d glanced out the window as the long black car pulled away from Lilith House, but still, her heart beat harshly in her chest. This will only take a minute. That’s all I need. She raised her hand and rapped softly on the solid wood door on the very off-chance someone was inside. All was silent. She tried the handle. Locked. Of course. She’d known it would be. But her mother’s door had always been locked too, and Kandace had still managed to steal a good portion of her jewelry, designer purses, and any expensive clothes the pawn shop would take for cash.
She reached in her pocket and brought out a hairpin, sticking it in the lock and maneuvering it until she heard a small click. “Yes,” she whispered softly, turning the handle and ducking quickly inside. Her eyes darted around the office, her nerve-endings trembling. In the corner of the room, the one remaining bluebird eyed her silently. Kandace swallowed heavily, taking one step toward the winged prisoner but then stepping back. Sorry, buddy. If I try to spring you, you might give me away. Another time, okay? She hoped birds were mind readers and he’d understood the message she’d sent.
She turned to the box on the wall, moving quickly toward it and using her pin again to work the small lock holding the top closed. She had it open in mere moments, her hands shaking as she unhooked the key lock and pulled the top open. Empty.
“Goddammit.” She let the top drop, looping the lock through and clicking it closed. She glanced around the office, a droplet of sweat rolling down her back. She didn’t want to know what Ms. Wykes would do if she caught her in her office, much less rifling through her drawers. Her eyes bounced from the bookshelves, to the two file cabinets, to the desk, and all its numerous drawers. Where do I begin? For all she knew, the cabinets held nothing more insidious than student files. Ms. Wykes had told Kandace her phone would be returned upon her departure from Lilith House, but more likely, the phones she confiscated were smashed under her sensible shoes or Jasper’s heavy boot.
And she was out of time. The girls would be finishing their meals now. She could only pray her absence hadn’t been noticed by the staff, or that they assumed she’d gone to the bathroom without asking. This mission would have to be rescheduled.
She opened the door, glancing in both directions down the hall, turned the lock on the inside of the door, and then pulled it closed behind her.
Her heart slammed to a stop when she heard the sound of voices directly around the corner. Kandace scurried to the first doorway she came to, turning the handle—it was open, thank God—slipping into the darkened interior and pulling it closed behind her. Blood whooshed in her head as the conversation grew louder. Kandace’s ears pricked, her muscles held taut as she attempted to control her breathing, struggled not to make even the tiniest noise. It sounded as if the two women talking had stopped nearby and were engaged in an argument. Kandace couldn’t make out the words, but she listened as their voices rose and fell in heated debate.
Kandace took a small step back so she could lean more fully against the wall and the ancient wood beneath her feet creaked loudly. The voices outside the door ceased and Kandace cringed. Shit.
Now that her eyes had adjusted to the dark, she saw that she was standing at the top of a set of wooden steps that turned the corner halfway down, traveling lower into some space she couldn’t see from where she stood.
Footsteps were approaching the door. Kandace stepped as carefully as she dared while still racing to beat whoever was about to open the door. She ducked around the stairwell corner just as the door above was pulled open, a wide shaft of light filling the space and spilling around the be
nd where she now stood, back pressed against the wall, breath held.
“This door is supposed to be locked at all times.” A woman’s voice, one she didn’t recognize.
“One of them must have forgotten,” the other woman murmured. “We’ll let Ms. Wykes know.”
“Don’t,” the other woman whispered. “I mean . . . don’t they have it rough enough as it is?”
The other woman didn’t answer but Kandace heard the click of a lock being turned and then the door was pulled closed, shutting out the light. Kandace blew out a slow breath. The stairwell was dark, dank. It smelled like mildew and dirt. It must lead to some sort of a basement storage area. There had to be a back way out, right? A window? Even a small one? Something . . .
God, I’m screwed. She needed to get out of there as quickly as possible and pray to God her absence hadn’t been noticed.
She stepped down into a wide-open space, the floor concrete, the walls open rafters, a dim light coming from somewhere beyond and barely illuminating the space enough so that she could see where she was stepping.
Boxes and random pieces of furniture littered the area. Several beds, their springs rusty, were piled near the wall, with a few pieces of luggage in front of them. Kandace stepped toward the suitcases and backpacks, attempting to spot her own. She turned away. What did it matter anyway? Other than the drugs, which she assumed had been flushed the day she’d arrived—and what a shame because she sure could use to get high right about now—the only thing she’d brought were clothes and toiletries, and those would be useless here at Lilith House.
Kandace scurried between two piles of rotting boxes, heading farther into the recesses of the basement, toward that seemingly faraway muted glow of light.
An eerie snickering sound came from the darkness to her right where the light didn’t reach and she whirled toward it, her pulse jumping. For a moment she simply stood there frozen, her heart thumping as she stared into the pitch-black. Something shifted and Kandace jerked backward as it came rushing at her from out of the gloom. A skull. White bones. The scream on her lips ended in an expelled whoosh of air as she hurled herself backward, tripping and falling onto a pile of boxes and refuse, raising her hands in defense as the thing hurtled toward her, attacking.
A flood of adrenaline threw Kandace into fight mode, and she shoved the thing away with her arms and kicked at it with her legs, panting with terror as she crawled quickly from beneath it and jumped to her feet, whirling back around, prepared to fight it off again. Instead . . . she blinked, still panting, but leaning closer, a small hysterical laugh rising in her throat. She leaned forward and grabbed the thing, pulling it upright.
It was a fully intact anatomical skeleton like the ones used in classrooms, standing on a pair of rickety wheels. “Holy shit,” she muttered, pushing it away from her. It rolled backward toward the gloomy corner. “Holy shit,” she repeated.
She didn’t think anyone could have heard her scuffling about with the skeleton in this below-ground space that must be well insulated and was hopefully far enough away from the others in the house. Still, she needed to get out of there. And she wanted to get out of there. Despite that she now knew the skeleton was nothing but an old teaching tool, she still felt shaken and anxious. As rattled as the bones that had just sprung from the gloom and fallen over her.
With an intake of musty air, she turned back toward that light. She made it across the large room, glancing behind her every few steps, and when she rounded another tall pile of storage boxes, she saw that a single bulb hung from the rafters of what was a sort of hallway off the main open area with rooms on either side. More storage? And at the end of the hallway, she saw a wooden door with a thin sliver of daylight showing beneath. Relief filtered through her. Sunshine. A way out.
As she tiptoed quietly past an open door, the light reached inside the room to reveal three desks all in a row, and a chalkboard at the front. It looked like a classroom—the desks small and childlike—but for who?
A loud rustling sound made Kandace halt abruptly as she sucked in a startled breath. The sound had come from the room just past the small classroom. Slowly, tentatively, she stepped forward, soundless on the concrete floor. She heard more rustling and the squeak of what sounded like bedsprings. Her eyes rose to that door at the end of the hall. Should she make a mad dash for it? No, that might catch the attention of whomever was inside the room just ahead of her, whereas if she peeked inside and saw that the person making the noises was turned away, or occupied with some task or another, she could quietly sneak by.
Kandace took in a big breath, mustering all her courage and leaned around the frame. Inside the room, a boy sat hunched over on a bed, headphones over his ears, books spread out around him, as he wrote on a notebook on his lap. Kandace slowly let her breath out, pressing her lips together in indecision. He only looked to be a kid, thirteen, maybe fourteen, tall but skinny, from what she could tell in his sitting position. Slight but for his height, with the smooth skin of a young teen who hadn’t yet sprouted his first whisker. She didn’t think he necessarily posed a physical threat if push came to shove. But who was he and would he call someone who was a threat? Would he scream when he saw her so that Jasper the hellhound came running?
Perhaps she should make a break for the door, hope it was easy to fling open and escape before he’d even gotten a good look at her face? They all wore the same uniform and had the same God-awful short, shaggy haircut, even if he came out of the room and saw her from the back, would he really be able to identify her later? Yes, if it’s already been noticed that you’re missing.
As though he sensed her presence, the boy’s head came up, his gaze clashing with hers, eyes widening with surprise. He ripped the headphones off and leaped to his feet. Kandace drew back, glancing once at the exterior door and then back at him.
As they stared at each other, Kandace saw not only the surprise in his gaze, but fear as well. Her shoulders lowered and she raised her hand as though attempting to calm a frightened animal. “It’s okay. I’m just . . . lost.” She inclined her head toward the door. “I see an exit, so I’ll just—”
“You’re not supposed to be down here.”
She nodded. “I know. I’ll be in trouble if I’m caught. Don’t say you saw me, okay?” She tilted her head, giving him her most flirtatious smile, but she could feel that it fell flat. She didn’t exactly feel like a girl who could convince anyone of anything using her feminine wiles at the moment—even a boy in the throes of puberty.
Vanity will not be tolerated.
Oh yes, they’d stripped her of that, no doubt there.
He narrowed his eyes at her, appearing torn. “I’m supposed to tell if I see one of you in a place where you shouldn’t be.”
One of you. She nodded. “I get it, and I’d ordinarily never ask someone to be dishonest, but . . . I’m really not doing anything wrong, and if they get the idea that I am—”
“You’re sinning.”
“Yes.”
“You’ll be punished.”
Kandace bobbed her head. “Yes. I will.”
His expression registered another flash of confusion, but it melted into what appeared to be concern. He wet his lips, pausing for several beats. “Don’t go out that door,” he finally said in a rush of words, nodding toward the one she’d been headed toward. “Ms. Granger has a direct view from her classroom and she might see you. If she does, she’ll report to Ms. Wykes. I know a better way.”
Relief made Kandace’s breath come easier. He wasn’t going to rat her out. In fact, he was going to help her. “Are you a . . . student here?” she asked, curiosity overwhelming her as she stepped into the room. “I was told there weren’t any boys.”
“There aren’t. That is . . .” He cleared his throat, embarrassment flashing in his eyes. “We, I mean, myself and two others . . . we weren’t sent here. We were born here.”
“Born here?” she breathed, her eyes roaming his young face. She’d thought him
a good-looking kid when she’d first caught sight of him, but she could see now that he was beyond that. He was a beautiful boy. “What do you—?”
His fingers clamped down on her arm at the sound of a door opening and shutting, and then feet descending the wood steps. Kandace’s heart rate jumped. Shit, someone was coming down the same set of steps she’d taken ten minutes before. Someone looking for her?
The boy pulled her, putting his finger up to his lips as he met her eyes. Shh. Kandace nodded, letting him lead her toward the door, where he then turned right. From there, he walked her toward a wall and pulled at a board. What had just looked like a planked wall, had a small secret door that swung outward on hidden hinges. He pointed inside, indicating that she should crawl in. Kandace hesitated. She’d thought she could trust this kid, but how did she know he really wasn’t just some nutjob? There seemed to be quite a few of them at Lilith House. And she wasn’t talking about the students. How screwy did you have to be to teach at a place like this anyway?
The footsteps were getting closer, the gait slow, but steady. They sounded like men’s shoes. Jasper? The boy nudged her. “Go,” he whispered, an edge of anxiety in his tone. She had so many questions, but there was no time for that. Not now. Kandace took a deep breath and climbed into the small space and the boy climbed in after her and pulled the hidden door shut. The footsteps rounded the corner and stopped. Kandace held her breath, the boy’s body pressed against her own in the mostly dark space, the only small amount of light coming in through the tiny gaps between the slats.
After a moment, the person began walking again, but she could hear that he had turned around and was heading back the way he’d come.
