by Anya Allyn
I knelt to wave a greeting to the animals outside the window. I noticed then, the tiny blinking light on some kind of unit on the ceiling. A burglar alarm. We’d never had one of those before either. I guessed that was at Kalassi’s insistence too.
Molly lugged in her bag and sat on a bed. She only had one bag—filled with clothing that the Kalassis had bought for her. She picked up a fluffy cushion off the bed and hugged it to her. “I’m really here.” She sounded a little dazed.
A knock sounded at the door and mom answered it. She brought in a bunch of yellow flowers, setting them down on a side table. She briefly glanced at the accompanying note but said nothing.
Mom yawned. “I’m off for a sleep, girls. Please, Molly, make yourself at home.” She reached for her hand and squeezed it. “This is your home.” She gestured towards the kitchen. “There’s a fridge full of drinks and snacks and let me know if you need anything ok?”
Mom’s face was drawn and her olive skin pale. I didn’t know what had been involved in organizing the move and redoing the house, but I guessed it had all taken its toll.
I stepped over and read the note on the flowers. They were from Zach—the card reading, Welcome home. Can’t wait to see you, Zach.
"Who is Zach?" Molly stood behind me, twisting a length of her red hair around a finger.
"Aisha and I went on a brief vacation back in January—to an island in north Queensland. We met Zach and his older brother there. God, I wish you'd been there too. But back then, I didn't even know that was possible...."
"So... you have a boyfriend?"
"Well no… we’re just friends." I didn’t know if that was exactly true—in Zach’s eyes anyway. But things had moved so fast, I wasn’t sure where I stood. All I knew was, I really wanted to see him again.
Molly gave me a quick smile. "I think I need to go lie down too—long flight.”
I nodded sympathetically. “Yeah, it was long. I’d forgotten just how many hours it takes to get from Sydney to the States.”
Molly slipped from the living room into the bedroom. I wanted to sleep too, but I guessed she wanted some privacy. The flowers from Zach had probably been bad timing. Guilt threaded its way down my insides. I’d had a life both before and after the dollhouse. Molly had had none. I fetched a vase from the kitchen—grandma’s treasured glass vase that she’d had since she first was married—and arranged the flowers in the vase. I went to place the flowers on the kitchen table but had second thoughts and placed them in an out-of-the-way corner in the sun room.
I settled on the sofa. My head and body felt heavy and useless.
I woke later with an imprint of the serpent’s eye in my mind. I’d been dreaming of Zach and Prudence and the ocean.
Zach and I were sailing in a yacht close to shore. I could see through the glittering ocean to the shallow bottom. Sea grasses swayed in the undercurrents. The sea grasses grew and twisted, choking the water with their masses, forming into trees below the surface. A pale shape floated in the green depths—a girl—her dress drifting around her. Her eyes were open but unseeing. Prudence. She became tangled in the sea grasses. Zach and the yacht were gone, and I was plunged into the water. The water was cold, deathly cold. And darkness moved into the world above. Walls—walls of rock crowded in. I was in the cave of the serpent. The tree of sea grasses fell away beneath me, into incalculable depths, taking Prudence with it. She held out a hand to me. I tried to reach her, but my lungs were bursting. In the inky waters, a mass darker then the water swam towards me. A silver gaze fixed on me. The eyes of the serpent.
25. VIZCAYA
The first lessons our teacher gave Molly and I were just a series of short skills tests, to see where we were at academically.
Molly scored high in English and geography and low in math skills. The teacher was particularly impressed with Molly’s knowledge of pre-1920s literature. Miss Bowen of course didn’t know who Molly was and would be horrified if she knew how her student had such knowledge. My scores were the same middling scores as usual—the only subject I did well in was biology.
Molly plunged into her schoolwork with dedication. She seemed determined to fill in the blank spots. She enjoyed our strolls on the beach the most, but shopping centers and stores seemed too much—they both exhausted and scared her. Molly and I ended up choosing most of our clothing from online stores.
The police had requested a blanket ban on reporting that Cassandra Claiborne had moved back to Miami. No one but my former friends and a few locals even knew I was here. And no one but a select few knew Molly Parkes was alive. Molly had been put back into the witness protection program, and the police had changed her identity. Her name was now Moledah Campbell, with her back story being that she had grown up in an isolated religious community. She was now officially a distant cousin of mine whom had wanted to break away from her cult. Her story fit with her accent, which didn’t sound Australian—after five years spent underground with Jessamine, Molly’s speech was a quaint mix that sounded somewhat English/American. The story also fit with her ignorance of recent world events and normal teenage experiences. Her fiery hair had been dyed a muted color, although the red highlights burst through in the sunshine. Her freckles had been lasered away. Her lovely green eyes were now a golden brown thanks to contact lenses. Her age had been changed to a date eight months younger.
She said she liked her new name, Moledah. It was from the bible and meant giver of life. And at least she could still be Molly for short.
Molly took to the internet like a moth to a flame. Her aunt and uncle hadn’t let her use the internet when she’d lived with them. She spent a lot of time looking up music videos and listening to music. Her music choices were eclectic—from classical to loud, angry death metal. She watched one particular video over and over—a news clip in which Frances was reunited with her family. She would touch the face of Frances on the screen and cry as Frances caught the first sight of her family rushing to see her in the hospital. I would sit and watch too, captured by the real-life news footage of the people Molly had drawn for Frances in the underground. Molly had wanted to keep their memory alive for Frances, ever-hopeful that the tiny girl would see them again.
Molly was also obsessed with finding answers to what had happened to all of us in the underground.
My mind resisted thinking about the underground. The serpent was fast becoming a nightmare vision, a being I hadn't really seen. I understood now how people could block out a monstrous thing that had happened to them. Some things were too much to bear. Some things were too difficult to even process. Mostly I felt I was standing on the edge of the crazyland abyss and it wouldn’t take much to push me over.
Back in the dollhouse, I’d been the one trying to push Molly when she’d stood at that edge—never realizing what I was doing. I owed it to her to be strong now and find out all we could. And I owed it to Prudence—Prudence who had helped me when I needed help most. But I wasn't strong. And I couldn’t admit to Molly that I didn’t want to find out any more about that world. Night after night, I pretended to help her in her research, hoping she wouldn’t see the truth in my eyes.
Every night, Molly and I poured over things that would have given mom a heart attack if she’d known. We read about shadowy ancient texts and demonic rituals and mythical beings. We tried to find the mirrored tree amongst centuries-old symbols. We studied genealogy sites, trying to glean information about Jessamine’s past. Molly desperately wanted me to find out what I could from Lacey, but when I called the hospital where she was, they wouldn't allow me to talk with her.Aisha joined us on Skype every night—adding whatever knowledge she’d been able to find. It felt as though the clock was forever ticking time away—only we didn’t know it was that what we were racing against.
We tried to bring the ghost of Prudence back. But she didn’t appear.
“I know she wants to,” said Molly sadly, “but I can feel that she’s not able to pass through.”
Some part of my mind f
elt the insanity of the things I believed in now, but it had also become normal life. And Prudence wasn’t a ghost. She was a real person. I sensed the veil between this life and the next as being whisper-thin. We spent hours looking up records of missing girls, from countries around the world, trying to discover who she was. She eluded us.
The more time I spent with Molly, the more I realized I hadn’t known her at all. I’d seen her as passive in the underground—strong but always so afraid to act. At the end I’d known she’d had no choice but to try to survive and to keep the others alive. I’d never seen Molly as she was now—driven and relentless. She barely slept, staying up until the early hours, researching and learning everything she could. She’d spent five years mostly sleeping, she said, and now she was going to make up for lost time.
I couldn’t wait to see Zach again, and I felt weak and stupid for feeling that way. After all, I’d been with Zach less than two days in total. Maybe it was just the fact that he was so unconnected to the underground that made me want him so much—he was the future I thought I’d never have.
I slipped out while Molly was taking a math class. Zach insisted on sending a cab over to pick me up. The only modes of transport I had open to me were the bus and my bicycle—and so I didn’t argue. He’d wanted to meet somewhere special and had chosen the Vizcaya museum and gardens. I’d been there once when I was around six.
I felt a stab of jealousy as a group of girls dressed in teeny shorts and oversize jumpers strolled by outside the museum. In the Whitsunday Islands back in Australia, Zach had been all mine. Here in Miami, he had endless choices.
I stepped into the ornate marble lobby of the Vizcaya and found my way through to the gardens. Zach stood by the garden maze. His mouth turned up into a grin as he saw me. He bounded over to me before I could say hello, his arms wrapping around me.
“Hello Miss Cassandra,” he murmured close to my ear.
“Zach.” Pulling back, I smiled at him.
His eyes were especially blue today. The cut-off denim shorts had been replaced by a pair of True Religion jeans. The worn t-shirt was replaced with a navy wind cheater. He looked amazing. Up close, he looked different than he had on that vacation to the Whitsundays. Back there, his tanned good looks had kind of blended in with the sunkissed tropical backdrop. But here, his looks were striking.
“Can I hug you again?” he asked. “That felt sooo good.”
Without waiting for an answer, he lifted me off the ground and crushed me to him. “I’m glad you’re finally here.”
We began walking into the round maze, our fingers touching and catching as we threaded our way through. He stopped to kiss me in the center of the maze and my breath caught in my chest.
“I’m sorry I couldn’t get away before now,” I told him.
“I was starting to think you were blowing me off.”
“I would never do that.
“How’s your cousin doing?”
I shrugged awkwardly. “She’s okay. It was hard for her to leave her whole family behind in that cult, but she’s coping pretty well.” I hated lying to Zach. But I wasn’t allowed to tell anyone the truth about Molly.
His eyes grew serious. “And more importantly, how are you doing? You know, I watched the clock the whole day you were at court, waiting for you to get home and call me. It must have been hell.”
I nodded. “It was. But incredibly good to hear your voice at the end of that day.”
“Are you hungry?”
“Not too much. Mom cooked a big breakfast.”
“Okay then, I know what we’ll have.” He smiled, taking my hand and leading me to the café. He ordered fresh scones, cream and jam. I almost felt weird with him watching me eat, now that he knew what I’d been through in the dollhouse. It was almost like a badge of shame. I hated having people know that I’d been forced to dress like a doll and eat old scraps of food. I suddenly wanted to flee, go home, hide. I understood a small fraction of how Molly felt while out amongst crowds of people.
The pool below glittered in the noon sun, streaming through open arches into the interior of the historic mansion. I finished my scones quickly, trying to smile as Zach talked on about a funny event that had happened at school earlier that week.
“I’d better go,” I told him. “I have lessons this afternoon.”
Zach gazed at me with his beautiful eyes. “But it’s Sunday?”
“I know. I’ve missed too much school. It’s been seven months since I was last at school. I really need to do some heavy catching up.”
He sighed. “Come sailing with Emerson and I next weekend.”
“Sounds fun. But I don’t want to leave Molandah on her own.”
“You’d come? Bring your cousin too. Does she like sailing?”
“I’m not sure. But I’ll ask her.”
Zach called a taxi for my trip home and then ducked his head to kiss me. “I’ll miss you for the next five days.”
I woke dreaming about Prudence and the underwater tree again.
Molly sat cross-legged on her bed, staring out the window into the garden. Tears tracked down the silvery planes of her cheeks.
“Molly…?”
“Sorry if I woke you.”
“You didn’t wake me. I had… dreams.”
“Yeah. I have them too. They haunt me every night.”
“Is that why you’re crying? A dream?”
Her hair hung over her face like a curtain. "Cassie… I've missed out on so much. I've been locked away... almost my whole life. Even when I lived with my uncle—that was just a different kind of being locked up. I don't even feel like a whole person. I'm just… half of someone's idea of what I am."
I sat, drawing my knees up to my chin. "You have to stop thinking that crap. You’re more real than anyone I know. And in that place, you were the person who kept me sane. You're the person who kept all of us sane. Maybe you gave too much of yourself for too long.”
“That was the thing. In the dollhouse, I had people to care for. Before that, no one needed me. No one even saw me or noticed I was around. Little Philly and Sophronia, they needed me. At least, I had a reason for being, a reason to be alive. I could be there for them.”
I didn’t know what to say to her. A thought burned at the back of my mind, a thought so terrifying, I immediately banished it from my mind.
Maybe everyone in the world needed Molly Parkes right now—they just didn’t know it.
26. BRICKNELL KEY PARK
Molly and I were scrubbing Mom’s car in the driveway when Zach and Emerson pulled up in a convertible.
“Mmm, what is it about girls and suds?” said Emerson.
Molly blushed a deep pink.
They had someone else in the back seat—Zach introduced him as Parker. He had that clean-cut college-boy look, with intelligent gray eyes beneath short black hair. Parker jumped from the car, extending a hand to me and then to Molly.
“I don't think I've ever seen hair quite the shade of red that yours is. Stunning,” he said to Molly.
Molly mumbled a thanks. I couldn’t help but think that if he’d seen her hair the color it was before, he’d have been even more impressed.
Zach grabbed me around the middle from behind and kissed my temple. “Maybe the girls can come wash our boat. What do you think Emerson? We can sit back with some cold drinks and watch these two do their thing.”
“Cut it out,” I said. I introduced him and Emerson to Molly.
Molly looked like she was ready to run. This was probably the closest she’d been to boys in the past five years—with the exception of Ethan.
“Sorry—I’ll consider myself chastised,” said Zach. “Sadly, the yacht’s already clean—dad made me and Emerson clean it last weekend. It’s all ready for another sail out on the water. We thought we’d see if you two would like to come out with us.”
I eyed Molly apologetically. I’d already told her about Zach’s invitation to go out yachting, and she’d politely declined. I
hadn’t expected him to just turn up like this. And she hadn’t even met him before.
As if Zach suddenly tuned into my words, his eyes softened. “Please? Molandah, I’ve heard so much about you from Cassie. She thinks a lot of you. I know you don’t know Miami well—I was hoping for a chance to show it to you from the water.” He hung his head like a sorrowful choirboy. “And Cassie’s so attached to you she won’t come unless you do.”
Molly nodded hesitantly. “Okay… I’ll come.”
"Cool!” Parker grinned at Molly.
The sky was a burnished blue—almost a coppery blue as we stepped onto the yacht.
Miami became a long strip of golden beach with slightly misted highrises behind.
“Wow, we’re a long way out already,” I said to Zach.
His eyes smiled. “This is a cruiser-racer. Sacrifices a few comforts for greater speed. Doesn’t go quite as fast as dad’s racing yacht but she’s a great little boat.”
Molly tied her long hair up into a loose knot.
Parker folded his arms. “Here I was hoping to see that lovely hair blowing in the wind.”
Molly’s full mouth turned up slightly at the corners. She wasn’t used to the way boys their age spoke and teased. I nudged her arm, and we moved up to the bow and sat on the bench. The boys steered the yacht along the shoreline for the next hour, past the Biscayne National Park.
“Beautiful,” said Molly. She’d relaxed in the last half hour, wanting to know everything about where we were and what we were looking at. Parker was more than happy to oblige, acting as her personal tour guide.
“This whole area is an aquatic park,” said Parker. He bent close to her, pointing over her shoulder to the shore. “That way is Key Largo—you know, like in the Beach Boys song—and if you keep going, you’ll hit Cuba. And that way are the Bahamas. I’ll take you there one day if you’ll let me.” He pointed left over the broad ocean.
Molly frowned and smiled, seeming to not know what to make of Parker.
