Page 105 of We Already Dug the Grave

As we stood, it was like time stopped and we were locked in a moment with every hole in our plan now obvious. Of course Burt could catch an earlier flight. He was an angry rich man. He could do whatever he wanted. What if the tracker we assumed was on my sister’s car was more sophisticated than we could imagine? Everything I knew about the technological capabilities of a tracker was learned via five minutes on Google while standing in my kitchen. Or maybe there wasn’t even a tracker in the car, and when Frances mentioned finding one, it tipped him off that something was fishy.

God. For maybe the first time in my life, I wished I had a gun. A weapon of any kind. I reached into my pocket, fingers wrapping around the bone. I caressed it with my thumb and exhaled a tight breath.

I looked at Ruth. Knowing my aunt, she had at least one knife on her somewhere.

Bunny stood next to the window and peeked out the dusty curtains.

“Is he here?” I whispered.

Bunny looked at me with wide eyes, her bubblegum pink lips parted.

My heart thudded. Nothing shocked Bunny. What was Burt doing on the other side of the door that had her rattled?

Another knock.

Sunlight beamed through a tiny hole near the top of the door, like the laser sight from a sniper’s rifle.

“Okay,” I said. “Y’all know what to do.”

Instead of moving to hide in the bathroom, Bunny stepped in front of the door. “Ruth,” she said. “You should answer it.”

“What?” I shook my head. “No. We stick to the plan.”

Bunny looked past me, locking eyes with my aunt. “Really. Ruth. Trust me.”

Ruth’s gaze jumped from Bunny to me, her face a question mark.

“What’s going on?” I demanded.

Ruth said nothing as she moved around me, still clutching the rag.

“And give me that.” Bunny plucked the washcloth with two fingers. She dropped it onto the shabby corner table.

Another round of knocking, but this time, Aunt Ruth pulled open the door.

“Ruthie?” a woman’s voice said.

My heart grew heavy as a stone.

I glanced at Bunny whose eyes were still wide in disbelief.

“Oh Ruthie. I’m so happy to see you!” the woman’s voice said.

And it wasn’t just any voice. This was the voice that I heard in my sleep. This was the voice I clung to, afraid that one day, I’d forget it altogether.

It was the voice that had told me to run.

Ruth, shocked to silence, pulled the door open a little wider, so I could see the woman on the other side.

“Milly,” she said. “Oh Milly.”

I took a breath, trying to reclaim the oxygen that had been knocked from my lungs.

Finally, I replied, “Hey there, Mama.”

Chapter 40

Then