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And then…
A scream.
At first, I think it’s my scream. My mind is playing cruel tricks on me, replaying that awful night. The images are too close to the surface, trying to pull me under. I think about the tools Dr. Shelby has given me over the years to keep the maddening thoughts at bay, and I try to channel my “strong self” over my “hurt self.” I squeeze my eyes shut.
Be brave, Brant. Be strong.
But then my blood swims with ice.
No, that wasn’t my imagination. That was something else. That was…
June’s scream…?
Horror spirals through me when reality fractures my gruesome, miserable thoughts. I had only run around to the side of the house to catch my breath, to collect some air—to get away from Monica Porter and her disgusting words—and I just needed a few minutes. I was coming back.
I was going to come right back.
My feet kick into action, and I round the corner through the backyard, running as fast as I can. Mr. and Mrs. Bailey are already racing through the sliding back door, while Theo and the girls jog from the other direction, blocking my view.
“Oh my God. June!” Mr. Bailey’s voice is booming, frantic.
No, no, no.
My heart is in my throat, my lungs burning with fear. “Junebug!” I push blindly between Wendy and Monica, shoving my way past Theo, until I’m standing over June’s crumpled body in the wet leaves. No! I’m sobbing instantly, falling to my knees beside her. “June…Junebug, wake up!”
“Don’t touch her, Brant,” Mr. Bailey orders, then turns to Mrs. Bailey and says in a frazzled breath, “Samantha, call an ambulance.”
She makes a strangled gasp and darts back into the house.
Tears are sliding down my face faster than the rain that pelts us. I rock back and forth in the grass beside June, watching as Mr. Bailey presses two fingers to the side of her neck.
Is she breathing? Is she dead like my parents?
She can’t be. I won’t survive it.
“She’s breathing,” he says, a rush of relief spilling out of him. He looks around at us all, his dark, wet hair matted to his forehead. His cheeks are bright red, his eyes wide and filled with grief and alarm. “Everyone, stay back.”
I want to reach for her. I want to cradle her in my arms and whisper in her ear that I’m sorry—I’m sorry I failed. I failed to protect her like I promised I always would.
How could I be so careless?
Sniffling, I drink in her sweet face dotted with a light spattering of freckles. Her princess crown is cracked, lying beside her in the soggy grass, and her hair is camouflaged by the golden-brown leaves. June’s eyes remain closed; she lies perfectly still. Motionless.
Just like Mom and Dad.
A rage I’ve never felt before infiltrates me, and I jump to my feet, spinning around to face Theo. He’s wide-eyed and mortified, completely silent as he links his hands behind his neck and shakes his head. Mr. Bailey continues to tend to June while sirens blare in the distance, and that’s when I crack.
I let my anger loose.
Theo’s misty eyes shift toward me, and both Wendy and Monica back up when they see the look on my face. I must look wild, crazed.
Swallowing back a stormy growl, I descend on Theo, shoving at his shoulders until he tumbles backward, his butt slamming against the ground. “Where were you? How could you leave her up there all alone?”
“I–I didn’t…I wasn’t—”
“It’s your fault if she dies! I’ll never forgive you.” My teeth are bared, and I’m nearly snarling like an animal. I feel like an animal.
“Enough, both of you!” Mr. Bailey bellows before turning back to June. “That damn tree house is a death trap. I should have known.”
