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“I’m being unreasonable?” I shout, then compose myself before going on. “Mom, you forced us to live like one person for years, when, as far as I can tell, we didn’t need to. You used us as guinea pigs in your little science project, lying to us the whole time. And god knows what you’re going to say about two of us being abducted!”
“Lizzie, you’re being dramatic,” Mom says, holding up her hands. “Take a breath. What Maggie did was wrong, but she didn’t exactly take them at gunpoint. And that’s all over now; I solved the problem.”
“I’m not dramatic!” I shout at her, disgusted that she’d help someone who kidnapped two of her children. “I’m awake! My eyes are finally open to this sham of a life you’ve created for us. I finally see how completely messed up it is… how messed up you are. You’re positively delusional if you think I’m going to let you dictate one more minute of my life, do you understand?”
I stand up a straighter.
“My life, Mom,” I say quietly. “Did you hear that part? I said my life.”
“That’s what we want,” Betsey says from behind me. “We want our own lives back.”
“And we’re not taking no for an answer,” Ella says.
I think of all of Mom’s papers that I stole, of how I could blackmail her just like Maggie did. But in the end, I don’t need to.
Knowing she’s defeated—for now, at least—Mom stands and leaves the motel room. The four of us stare at one another in silence for a long time after she leaves. Then, Ella speaks.
“What just happened?” she asks.
“I don’t know,” I say, “but it’s possible that from here on out, we’re on our own.”
Late that night, I’m wide-awake, watching Sean’s sleeping body on the floor at the foot of Ella’s bed. Betsey whispers something from the other side of the one we’re sharing.
“What?” I whisper, turning over to face her.
“I said: It’s either Mom or Maggie.”
“What are you talking about?” I ask. “Are you asleep?” I sit up a little and squint into the darkness to see if her eyes are open. Eyes like mine stare back at me.
“If we want our own identities, we either have to make up with Mom or go back to Maggie,” she explains. “Those are our two options, and both of them suck.”
I think about this for a moment, then something hits me. “Maybe not,” I say. “I might have a third option.”
In the morning, when Betsey’s showering, Sean’s foraging, and Ella’s drying her hair, I open Mom’s laptop and log on. In thirty seconds, I confirm that, yes, I have a third option.
That is, if that option will cooperate.
twenty-nine
Four five-hour shifts later, we’re in Northern California.
Nearing the end of the ride, Sean’s at the wheel and we’re listening to the kind of slow, heartstrings music that could put you to sleep if you weren’t anxious about being minutes away from potential freedom. Well, hours.
“Tell me again why you think he’s going to help us,” Sean says quietly. I like that he uses the word us even though this isn’t really his problem.
“He’s helped us before,” I say. “At least I think he did.”
“What do you mean?”
“A guy helped us when we relocated—he got us the new ID for Elizabeth Best and helped Mom set up her corporation and stuff,” I say slowly. “He works for the government or something, but he and my mom met in school. She never told us his name, but we used to call him the Wizard because he could conjure up identities out of thin air. Or at least he did that one time.”
“And this is him? The guy we’re going to see is the Wizard?”
I turn around to make sure Ella and Bet are still asleep. “I think so.”
“You don’t know for sure?” Sean asks, looking at me, surprised.
