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“How are you feeling?” I ask her as we walk arm in arm up to the house. I’ve never been so glad to see it, and to know I’ll be comfortable tonight.
But Ren won’t. I can’t think about that. I don’t know if I’ll be able to stop crying.
“Me?” She blurts out a little laugh and shakes her head. “I am not the person who matters the most right now.”
“I would argue with that,” Quinton pipes up behind me.
“Of course you would.” She gives him a little grin over her shoulder as we step through the door. It’s warm and familiar, and all of a sudden, I want nothing more than a shower. I need to wash everything away and start fresh. Maybe I’ll be able to think a little clearer once I do.
“I mean it, though. How have you been? How are things with the baby?” I ask her.
“Absolutely fine.” She gives me another little squeeze when we reach the foot of the stairs. “Even better now that you’re back.”
“Why don’t you go up, get yourself some rest once you’ve cleaned up a bit?” My father stands surprisingly close to me, but then everybody does. They cluster around me in a tight little circle like they’re afraid I’ll get away if they don’t cage me in. Even more of a reason to keep things to myself, especially the baby. It’s bad enough I doubt I’ll be allowed outside for a while—after everything I put my parents through, I’d better get used to the sight of my bedroom walls.
Instead of going straight upstairs, I look up at him. “We can’t forget him,” I whisper. “Please.”
Something stormy passes over his face and hardens his features. I recognize this expression, and it makes my heart sink. There’s not much getting through to him when he feels this way. “Scarlet, this isn’t the time.”
“You’re not going to get much sympathy out of any of us right now,” Quinton growls. From the corner of my eye, I watch Aspen put a hand on his shoulder, but I doubt she’ll be able to get through to him. He’s just like Dad. Once he makes up his mind, that’s it.
“He’s sick.” I lift my chin and look around, searching for understanding. An ally. “I know how you feel about it. You already told me in the car. But he needs help. Okay, so maybethere’s part of him that knows he’s doing these things, although, I doubt it,” I add when Q’s flashing eyes meet mine. “I swear. He becomes a different person. The way he made it sound, he really thought River was… I don’t know, a separate entity. I don’t know how to explain it.” Frustrated tears fill my eyes, but I blink them back. This isn’t the time to break down. Not when Ren needs me.
“You’re tired.” Dad glances at Mom, who puts an arm around my waist. “Get some rest. We’ll talk about this once you’ve pulled yourself together a little.”
In other words, run off like a good little girl. There’s not much I hate more than being dismissed that way, and it’s something Dad is an expert in. He knows just how to make a person feel childish and patronized.
“Let’s go,” Mom murmurs. “You need to take care of yourself. If Ren does need you, he’ll need you to be at your best. You won’t do him any good if you’re sick and exhausted.”
She doesn’t get it. None of them do. They would rather treat me like I’m some fragile thing that’s going to break. I don’t have a choice but to let her lead me upstairs. Maybe I’ll be able to get through to them tomorrow. Either way, I have to try.
If it wasn’tfor Mom barging into my room, I would probably keep pacing my room while plotting how to help Ren. I feel sick to my stomach, and every move only makes the nausea worse. So this is what I have to look forward to. Worried every minute about the father of my baby while the baby makes me sick every morning. I know I’m not alone, not really, but it feels that way.
“Come on now,” she urges in a bright voice. “We’re going to have visitors.” She moves as she speaks, fluttering around theroom like a hummingbird. Opening the blinds, filling the room with blinding sunshine.
“Who?” I even sound sick and miserable. She can’t know. Nobody can know. I clear my throat and try again. “Who’s coming over?”
“Roman and Sophie,” she tells me as she picks up the clothes I left in a pile before getting in the shower yesterday, then collapsing into bed. “And they’re bringing Luna.”
The mention of Luna is a candle flickering to life in my heart. If there’s anybody I can count on to understand, it’s her. She’ll listen. She’ll want to help her brother.
“Also…” Mom perches on the side of the bed, twisting her hands in her lap before she can’t help but reach out to stroke my hair. “I understand your father was busy all night getting to the root of Ren’s situation. He’ll want to see you when you come downstairs. You should do that soon, before the others get here. And you need to eat,” she adds in a firm voice before standing.
The thought of food makes me want to cry. “I feel a little queasy,” I venture. “I don’t know if I want to eat.”
“You have to eat a little something. Maybe some peppermint tea will help settle your stomach. I’ll put on the kettle for you, but you have to come down and get it yourself.”
It isn’t the idea of tea that gets me going. It’s wanting to know what Dad found out. It’s enough to make me go through the motions of getting dressed, brushing my hair; the whole deal before I slowly make my way downstairs.
Where is Ren now? I couldn’t have hit him hard enough to kill him, but who knows? No, he was breathing before I left… wasn’t he? My stomach lurches, but this time it’s not morning sickness that does it. I need to get a hold on myself, or I’m going to unravel.One step at a time.
The first step is taking the tea Mom offers, freshly brewed by the time I reach the kitchen. “Some toast, too,” she insists,placing a plate on the quartz countertop. It’s the last thing I feel like doing, but I pick up a slice and take one small bite, then another. I chew slowly and sip the tea, and after a few slow breaths, it seems like I’ll be able to keep it down.
I have to leave the rest of the toast behind, but I take the tea with me to Dad’s study. The door is open, but I knock anyway when I see him leaning in close to his MacBook screen, like he’s engrossed in whatever he’s reading.
His head snaps up when he hears me, and right away, he closes the machine. “Something I’m not supposed to see?” I ask, and even though I try to make it sound like I’m joking, I’m not. I sort of feel like I have to tiptoe around after scaring everybody for so long, but I’m not going to magically be okay with him treating me like a child who can’t handle facts.
He scowls but nods to one of the chairs in front of him. “Take a seat. We need to talk.” Once I do as he says, he sighs. “I spent hours digging into information on Safe Haven, from before we took them down. I thought I knew everything about it, really. Of course, there’s never knowing everything about a place like that. So many secrets were buried.” His voice cracks a little, and it’s like somebody took a scalpel to my heart and sliced it open.
