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I regard my sister—everything about her—her beauty, her gentleness, her nurturing nature, and of course her incredible talent. How in the world could she covet my life?
“But you, Callie,” she continues. “Your brain is so brilliant. The way you can solve problems, come up with solutions that are so logical. You don’t let your emotions enter into it, and that gives you such strength.”
“That’s not exactly true. My emotions control me all the time. I just don’t let them make decisions for me.”
“That’s my point, Cal.”
This time I join in her laughter. “Who would have thought, after all these years, that we each envy the other?”
“I never knew you envied me,” she says. “I just figured you considered my life kind of—I don’t know—fluffy.”
I laugh at her word. “No. You’re not fluffy. You’re kind and gentle, and you’re going to make an amazing mother.”
“Oh.” She swallows. “Let’s not go down that path. I’ll end up in tears, and we’ve already got enough to cry about.”
I nod. “Right. Let’s deal with the here and now. I know you weren’t looking for long, but did you see anything that seemed out of place to you?”
“Not yet.” She flicks her flashlight back on. “I’ll continue now.”
“I’ll keep digging.”
I shove back into the dirt. It’s softer than it was the other night because we just recently disturbed it.
Damn, this is a waste of time. But it’s important to Rory, so I’ll continue.
I dig, and I dig, and I dig, until I’m a farther down than where we buried the file box in the first place. There’s no reason why anything would be down there farther, so I decide to widen the area. I push my shovel into the ground and—
I gasp as I hit something hard with a clank.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
DONNY
Dale and I huddle in the corner of the concrete room. Our large T-shirts are gray with grime, and today our wrists and ankles are bound with white rope. Dale is quiet. Distant.
Dale is always quiet and distant, but it’s worse today.
Something happened to him. I wasn’t blind to blood that soaked the bottom of his T-shirt in the back. We often bleed, but this is worse. Much worse. It’s mostly brown and dried now.
But yesterday…
Yesterday was bad.
They took Dale away, to another room. They came for me, but Dale protected me as he always does. So they took him instead. I don’t know how long he was gone, but when they brought him back, he was limp. For a minute, I thought he might be dead.
But he wasn’t dead. They threw him onto the concrete, his shirt soaked in fresh blood, and then they took me.
Dale didn’t protect me that time. He could barely open his eyes.
When they brought me back later, they tied us up.
They came this morning to untie us so we could eat and use the bucket.
Then they tied us up again.
Dale doesn’t talk to me, even when I try. At least he holds on to me.
We still have each other.
