by Nina Monroe
It had amazed and frightened her, this resolve the kids had to keep what happened that afternoon a secret. Lieutenant Mesenberg had underestimated them. They all had.
“What the hell do these kids have to hide that’s so bad?” True says.
“Kids have complex motivations,” Eva says. “They feel things deeply. They get scared.”
“If they’re scared then they need to come to us to ask for help,” True says. “I’ve always taught my kids that they can tell me anything. It’s how Cedar and I raised them.”
Everyone falls quiet again. And then Eva’s phone rings.
“Sorry,” she says and turns it off.
But then Yasmin’s phone goes off. She feels sweat gathering at the base of her spine.
The words BROOK MIDDLE SCHOOL come up on her screen.
“Hello?” she says.
“Mrs. Sayed?”
“Yes.”
“This is Mrs. Markham. The principal.”
She waits for her to go on.
“Did you send your children into school this morning?”
“Yes—yes. I brought them in myself.”
“Well, they didn’t show up for registration.”
“I don’t understand—”
“Hanif and Laila are not at school. And some of the other children are missing too.”
“Missing?”
“The children involved in what happened … at the Wrights’ party. None of them showed up to class today.”
CHAPTER
42
10.45 a.m.
THROUGH THE BATHROOM door, Eva hears the others putting on their boots and coats and discussing where they should go to look for the children.
The mothers are going to split up and sweep the town. In the meantime, True is going to take the gun to the police.
Eva had convinced herself that Lily didn’t have anything to do with the shooting. That, at worst, she was a bystander who saw what happened and agreed to keep it a secret. But if Laila Sayed, a girl who’s never put a foot wrong, was hiding a gun, doesn’t that call all the kids into question?
She folds her hands over her stomach to ease the cramps.
She’d thought that she could make a difference here. Even after everything that happened, she’d wanted to support the parents and the children. She’d tried so hard to do the right thing. But it turned out that Priscilla was right all along: she was stupid to have got involved in any of this.
She was foolish to have come to America at all.
She hears the front door opening and closing as the parents go off to look for their kids.
For the first time, she regrets not having given in to Lily’s requests for a mobile phone. She’d wanted to protect her from that distraction; to let her be a kid for a bit longer, but right now, Eva would do anything to be able to get in touch with her.
She has to get to her but she doesn’t have the strength to move.
When I find you, Lily, we’re going home, she says. I’m going to tell Dad he has to give his notice. That we have to go back to London. We’re not meant to be here; we never were.
The strength of her feelings—her certainty that this is what they’re going to do—gives her a moment of relief from the cramps.
And then she feels something warm and wet rush between her legs.
Oh, God.
She rips off a wad of toilet paper and wipes herself. Bright red spots spread across the paper.
Her legs start to shake.
She pulls her underwear up and stumbles over to the sink.
There’s a knock on the door.
“You okay in there, Eva?” It’s Yasmin.
She grips the sink and stares at herself in the mirror but her eyes won’t focus.
Please no, please, please, no …
“Eva?”
Eva stumbles toward the door. She unlocks it. Yasmin stands in front of her. “Are you okay, Eva?”
Eva shakes her head.
Yasmin looks past Eva, at the blood-spots on the paper dissolving into the water of the toilet bowl.
“Oh—oh, Eva …”
Eva tries to take a step forward but her legs give way.
Yasmin puts her arm around her. “I’m here,” she says. “I’m here.”
CHAPTER
43
10 a.m.
THE CHILDREN STAND under the pines, rehearsing what they’re going to say.
They’ve decided not to go back to school: they have to talk to their parents before they lose their nerve.
The twins are the first to leave, walking back to their big white house on Main Street. Mom’s always there, waiting for them to get home from school.
Abi drags her feet back to St. Mary’s. She wishes that Cal had been with her when they went to see Skye. She knows that he wouldn’t have agreed with the others about coming clean to the grown-ups. It was too risky. The other kids don’t have as much to lose as they do.
Early this morning, they’d heard Bill talking to Avery in the kitchen. She knew that it was just a matter of time before he took them away.
Skye and Wynn sit on the front steps of the cabin and wait for Dad to come home. Phoenix runs off into the woods without saying a word.
Bryar and Lily pick up their bikes at the edge of the woods. They give each other a hug, knowing that the next time they see each other, everything will be different. And then they cycle off to their homes. As Lily watches Bryar cycling up toward Woodwind, her body feels hollow. Please may he be okay, she whispers to herself.
On her way back to the bungalow, Lily hears a honking behind her. She looks round and sees Dad driving their car. Which is weird; he should be at the university. He must have cycled back and collected the car from home. But then why isn’t Mum with him?
She’d banked on telling Mum before she told him—Mum would have helped her find the right words.
Dad winds down the window.
“Dad—” Lily starts.
“I need you to get in the car, Lily.”
“Why aren’t you at work?”
“Please, Lily, just get in.”
She leaves her bike on the pavement, gets in the car next to Dad and they drive along Main Street.
Through the car window, she watches the brook rushing past, the water so high that it looks like it’s going to burst its banks.
Dad’s really quiet.
Maybe he’s found out what happened. Maybe he’s angry. Even more angry than he was before.
“Where are we going, Dad?” Lily asks.
“To the hospital.”
“What? Why are we going to the hospital?”
“Mum’s not well.”
Lily’s heart starts racing.
“What? Mum? I don’t understand.”
Dad flicks on the indicator and turns into the hospital car park.
“Your mother’s expecting a baby, Lily.” His voice is choked.
The words hit her right in the chest.
“A baby?”
He nods.
Lily thought Mum was too old to have a baby. She didn’t know Mum wanted to have a baby, not any more.
“Why didn’t you tell me before?”
Dad goes quiet.
“Dad?”
“Because I didn’t know, Lily.”
Lily’s mind races. None of this is making sense. “But why is she in hospital?”
“Because there’s been a complication.”
“What kind of complication?”
Dad turns into one of the parking spaces and switches off the ignition. “I’ve only had a brief conversation with Mrs. Sayed—I don’t know any more than I’ve told you.”
“Mrs. Sayed? What does she have to do with Mum being at the hospital?”
“She took Mum to the ER.”
“You mean you haven’t spoken to Mum directly?”
Dad stares out through the windscreen. “No, I haven’t. She was visiting Mrs. Sayed and she wasn’t feeling well so Mrs. Sayed thought it was best
to get her checked out.”
“At the hospital? Why didn’t she just take her to the doctor?”
“I don’t know, Lily.”
Everything feels jumbled in Lily’s head. One minute she’s cycling home, ready to tell Mum and Dad about what happened at the party, and the next Dad’s driving her to the hospital because Mum’s pregnant—and because something’s wrong with her.
“Is Mum going to be okay?” Lily asks, her voice shaky.
“I don’t know, Lily.”
“And the baby?”
Dad leans over and takes Lily’s hand. “I’m sorry, Lily, I don’t know that either.”
CHAPTER
44
2 p.m.
ASTRID LOOKS AROUND the room.
The bedside table with cards on top.
A single foil balloon floating by the ceiling.
Beside her bed, on the monitor, her heart beats out a jagged green line. Next to it, the IV drip that’s connected to her arm.
Her eyes close again, tired from taking in so much. And then she feels someone stroking her head. And then a voice that sounds like Dad’s, but isn’t Dad meant to be in California?
We’re going to take good care of you, Astrid … we’re so glad you’ve come back to us …
She tries to look at where the voice has come from but her eyes feel too heavy.
Mom will be here soon …
Beyond her room, she hears footsteps, rushing; trolleys and gurneys being pushed down the hallway. Someone, somewhere, is crying.
She blinks again but her eyes won’t open. A picture flickers behind her eyelids.
She’s outside. She can see herself at a distance, standing on a patch of cracked earth. She can smell hay. Hear the horses kicking in their stalls.
She blinks again.
Now she’s inside the office at the back of the stable. A boy she used to be friends with kneels in front of the gun safe. Others press in through the door behind him.
It’s easy … she tells him. Anyone can open it …
He looks up at her. I don’t want to do this, his eyes say.
But she knows he’ll do it. For her. For all of them, watching.
She hadn’t planned this—or not exactly. To make him get out the gun and then to sneak in through the back door of his house to get the ammo—it won’t feel real if it’s not loaded, she’d said.
At first, she’d only wanted to see what was happening at the party; she didn’t want to be left out. But once she was in the stable and saw all those children there, having fun without her; once she saw Cal holding hands with Skye when she was the one who’d been the first to talk to him at church, right at the beginning of the summer—when she’d made it obvious that she liked him; and once she saw that English girl standing next to Bryar, like they’d known each other for ever, the voice had come into her head, the one that she tries so hard not to listen to because it pushes her into doing bad things:
Make him do it! You need to show him! To show all of them!
And then another voice, the one that made her come to the party to begin with:
You have to show Mom, the voice had said. You have to show her that she can’t stop you from doing what you want. That she’s not in charge.
And there was a third voice too, one that had been going around and around in her head since February:
Find a way to make Dad come home …
She’d tried to make the voices go away but the harder she tried the louder they shouted at her. And then, all of a sudden, she was the one doing the shouting—yelling at the boy who used to be her friend, making him feel small, pushing him into doing something he never wanted to do.
What are you waiting for? she’d yelled. Open it!
She remembers hating herself for speaking to him like that, but she couldn’t make herself stop.
She blinks again.
It’s cold outside now. Everything’s frozen. There’s snow on the ground and she’s younger. She wasn’t meant to take him for a walk; Mom gave her clear instructions that Jake should be kept inside for another few weeks.
And then, when she turned up with him at the stable, Bryar had warned her to keep the dog away from the horses.
He’ll scare them … he’d said. He’s too jumpy …
But she hadn’t listened.
A horse screamed.
The dog barked.
A shot rang out through the stable.
And then silence.
She blinks again.
Lying in the hospital bed, her heart speeds up. Her chest hurts; every breath hurts.
Beside her, the machine starts beeping.
A nurse runs in.
And then a doctor behind her.
And then Mom. She’s breathing hard, like she’s been running. Her face is flushed.
And Dad’s here too, leaning in, stroking her head again.
And then Mom starts crying and Dad puts his arm around her and the picture doesn’t look right. Why is he touching Mom like that? He lives somewhere else now. Far away. He said that didn’t love her any more.
Mom leans in and kisses Astrid’s forehead; she feels Mom’s warm tears against her brow.
Astrid tries to push a word out of her throat but her voice comes out broken. “Mom …”
She coughs.
A nurse tries to give her some water but she chokes on it; she feels it dribble down her chin.
“Mom …” she tries again. “I need to tell you something—” She coughs, a ragged cough that burns her throat.
“You need to rest, Astrid,” Dad says. “We can talk later.”
Astrid takes another breath and musters up all the strength she can.
She blinks.
Bryar is standing in front of the safe, staring at her, his eyes pleading. She’s holding up her phone, telling him that it shouldn’t be taking this long, that the YouTube video she’d watched made it look easy.
Now Jake’s lying in the hay, bleeding out.
The pictures blur into each other but one day is hot—so hot that she can feel the sunburn on the back of her legs—and in the other picture, it’s snowing outside.
More doctors and nurses crowd in. There are too many people in the room. But she has to keep trying.
“It was my fault …” she says.
“What? No, darling. No. None of this is your fault …” Mom says.
“I let him out …” Astrid pushes the words through her lips. “It wasn’t a mistake … It was me.”
She’d blamed Jake, said that he’d escaped on his own. And they’d believed her. Her story made sense. Jake came from a bad home. He was unpredictable—he would get mad when something spooked him. He’d found a way to get out by himself.
She’d never owned up to the fact that it was her fault that Jake had been shot. That she’d taken him to the stable. That he’d bitten one of the horses. That that’s why Bryar’s dad had taken out his rifle.
“Let who out, darling?” Mom says.
“I wanted to be with Bryar … I didn’t want to be alone …” She feels the emptiness of the house without Dad in it; how it made the inside of her body feel empty too.
“You’re confused, darling, please, please rest …”
Astrid thrashes her head violently against her pillow. Her thoughts spin. She has to get this right.
“I made him do it …” Astrid says.
She hears that horse kicking at the stall. Crying out.
She sees Wynn stepping too close—waving his arms about, getting in the way of everything.
She sees Mr. Wright holding the rifle, snow on his coat.
She sees Dad driving away, his car packed with all the things he wanted to bring to his life without her or Mom.
And then Bryar is looking up at her again.
Mom squeezes Astrid’s hand. She’s crying.
“Shhhh, Astrid—you don’t need to worry about anything any more. You’re back with us. That’s all that matters now …”
A do
ctor’s shining a light into her eyes. It’s too bright.
She blinks.
“It was my fault, Mom …” she says again. “It was all my fault.”
CHAPTER
45
7 p.m.
IT TAKES A while for the children to tell their parents. For them to be in the right place and to find the right words. The grown-ups are so busy talking about Astrid waking up that it’s hard to interrupt them and make them listen. And the kids are scared about what Astrid will say too, now that she’s awake. And about what will happen to them when everything’s out. Some of the kids think that maybe they shouldn’t talk after all; that they should go back to being quiet. But they promised each other.
I learned the codes to the safes, Bryar tells his mom and dad. The safe in the stable, with the gun. And the one in the basement with the ammo. I saw Dad opening and closing them so often, the numbers sank in … It wasn’t like I was planning to open them … but Astrid asked me to … She said I had to … I know it was stupid, but I thought that maybe, if I did something to make her happy, we could be friends again … like we used to be …
It was Astrid who asked him to get the gun out of the safe, Abi says. But we all wanted to see what it looked like … and to know whether he could shoot it … Her voice echoes between the church walls.
And then, when Cal comes home with Avery, when she gets a phone call to say that the others are missing from school, he tells Abi about how the red, black, and yellow paint got on his hands. How he got so scared by what was happening, by the news attention and the fact that Bill would probably pull them out of their new home with Avery. He’d wanted to do something, anything, to take the attention away from them.
I knew it was the wrong thing to do—to attack the twins and their family. But I thought that if people focused on them, then maybe they’d stop suspecting us and we’d get to stay. Their parents are rich. Their dad got them a lawyer. I didn’t think they had anything to lose.
Cal had another reason too, one he doesn’t tell them. He hoped that maybe Skye would be proud of him for taking attention away from her brother too. He’d heard people were whispering about Phoenix. Cal thought it might be a way to make it up to her for asking her to leave the stable that afternoon. That maybe then she’d like him again.
