Page 90 of Wildwood

The next day, I wake up in the hospital. Topher and Alice are by my side. They tell me I have frostbite on my hands and feet and suffered mild hypothermia. But other than that, I am okay. My baby is okay. More than okay. She’s healthy and kicking away. I’m sorry, I think as I touch my belly. I had to get us away.

Alice steps out to give us some privacy.

“El, I’m so sorry.” Topher is kissing my hand, kissing my face. “I’m so, so sorry for not believing you. I shouldn’t have trusted them.”

I take his hand and force myself to look in his eyes.

“I saw you and Madeline. On the security camera.”

“Security camera?” His brow knits together.

“There was one that showed the driveway.”

He looks confused, and then, suddenly, it clicks for him and the blood drains from his face.

“Oh, Elinor. I don’t know exactly what you saw, but it’s not what you think. I was just in over my head. I didn’t know what to do and Madeline said she’d help. That she’d keep an eye on things.” His voice wavers. “I was just going to give her a hug, to say thank you, and then suddenly she pulled my face close to hers and was telling me everything was going to be okay.” He pauses, gazing out the window and gives a short laugh. “I guess I should have realized something was off.” He bites his lip and shakes his head.

But I squeeze his hand and smile at him.

“It’s okay. It’s okay.”

All the anger I’d been holding toward him seems to have been washed away by the river. We both made mistakes. Both trusted people we shouldn’t have. Topher gently climbs onto the hospital bed beside me, behaving as though I’m made of glass.

When Alice comes back in, bearing cups of bitter coffee, they tell me that Julian was found dead in the woods earlier this morning. The police had tried to search for him last night but were unable to find him in the blinding snow. They presume he got lost in the whiteout conditions and succumbed to the elements, though he also sustained animal bites on his arms and torso. Bites that look canine.

Joan is in this same hospital, being treated for a shattered kneecap. There are officers outside her room. Madeline was brought in for questioning. I’m not hopeful anything will come of that. She’s claiming she was not involved in Julian and Joan’s plot. I know that’s not true. I know the Brooks are leaving Joan out to dry. They will try and disappear into the protection of their money and connections.

But perhaps the greatest story they tell me is how Alice found me.

“I was checking on the goats,” Alice says, her face gray in the morning light, “and I suddenly heard a dog barking like mad down by the river.” She pauses, a strange look on her face before continuing. “I knew something was going to happen that night, I just knew it. So when I get down to the bank, I see your dog howling to the night sky and you clinging to a tree root on the verge of death.” She shakes her head in disbelief. “Someone was looking out for you.”

The best they can guess is that Julian lured Hugo into the woods and brought him deep in so that he wouldn’t come back to my calls. He recorded the barking and was likely planning to kill Hugo, but Hugo must have escaped, disappearing farther into the woods before Julian could execute his plan. He didn’t escape unscathed, though, and took a bullet to the leg. But he’ll be okay. My beloved Hugo is okay.

Eventually, Alice leaves and Topher and I lie in bed together, the morning sun streaming through the hospital windows, the machines making various sounds indicating I’m alive, marveling at all that has happened and all we have survived.

* * *

When I go home the next day, Alice, Topher, and I go up to our bedroom and The Forest of the Dead. I show them the bird in the shape of an arrow to the right of the wardrobe, looking as though it’s about to swoop behind the furniture. Topher and Alice slowly and painstakingly slide the wardrobe away. It scrapes against the wood floor, leaving marks, I’m sure. When it’s moved far enough, we all stand back and look. Behind the wardrobe, a river runs down the wall, its angles and proportions far from realistic.

We scan the scene. The water is a faded gray blue. There are gentle curves and then it comes to a peninsula, which it snakes around. On the peninsula, there’s a large boulder. This is the area I ran to last night. It’s where the plunge pool is, the deepest part of the river. It’s where I played so often as a child. It was our woods, after all.

“There,” says Alice, moving closer to the wall. She points to a place beneath the boulder. Topher and I move closer too. There are markings, which from a distance could look like grass or small rocks. But up close, you can see there are four tiny crosses. Beneath each are initials. J.A. L.A. D.C. R.C. Abington and Clark. Husbands and wives. And one unborn baby, I think.

Alice stares at the mural, her jaw looking tense. “So there they are. After all this time.”

“Those innocent people, killed by their neighbors.” I shake my head, still heartbroken by this fact. What my ancestors played a role in. No, what heinous crime they plotted.

“I guess we contact some authorities,” Topher says, though none of us are entirely sure who would handle something like this.

“Yep,” Alice says, and I feel her eyes flick to me and then back to the painted trees. “I’m sorry I didn’t trust you,” she says. “I didn’t know if you would try and bury the truth, like the others have done.”

I swallow the lump in my throat.

“I’m so sorry,” I say, the words sounding infinitely inadequate. “I’m so, so sorry.”

I realize, almost sadly, that I don’t feel Lydia’s presence anymore. And when I look at the painted trees now, I see only a mural.

* * *