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She glanced behind her and then quickly shook her head. “He hasn’t come home yet.” Red-eyed and sniffling, her skittish gaze flicked to the school bag I was holding, and she slowly opened the door further. “Is that his bag?”
“Yeah,” I nodded. “He left it at school. I’m just returning it.”
The sound of raised voices drifted from somewhere behind her and she quickly reached for the bag. “Thank you for bringing it home for him. I can give it to him.“
“That’s okay,” I replied, taking a step backwards, hand firmly clamped around the strap as I hoisted it onto my shoulder. “I can wait.”
Something was off.
I could feel it in the air the moment she opened the door to me.
Podge’s earlier words flashed through my mind, and I winced sympathetically, before quickly steeling my resolve.
“Like I said, I need a word with your brother,” I added, offering her what I hoped was a warm smile. “I’m Aoife, by the way. Aoife Molloy. Joey works with my dad.”
“Yeah,” she whispered, keeping her head down as she clutched the door like it was the only thing holding her up. “I know who you are. You were at my Granda Murphy’s funeral.”
“Yeah, I was. And you’re Shannon, right?” I knew that was exactly who she was. “Joey’s little sister?” I had seen her around school many times since she joined BCS, but she kept to herself, never making eye-contact with anyone long enough to be noticed.
Looking at her now, it was hard to peg her for older than eleven. She was only a couple of years younger than me, but she had the body of a small child.
“Yes.” Nodding, she kept her chin tucked down as she whispered, “I’m Shannon.”
“I heard what happened at school today,” I added softly, cringing when my eyes took in the sight of her hacked-up, shoulder-length bob. “I’m sorry that happened to you.”
“It’s okay,” she croaked out. Her hands were shaking. In fact, she looked about two seconds away from passing out on the floor.
"Hey, are you okay?" I asked, titling my head to the side in my bid to get her to meet my eye.
“Yes.”
“You don’t look okay.” Concern rose to life inside of me. “You’re as pale as a ghost.”
More shouting filled the air, and I watched as she physically flinched. “You should go.” Her voice was small and pleading. “Now. Please.”
The door was yanked inwards then and a small blond boy grinned up at me. “Joey’s friend,” he said in delight. “The pretty girl.”
“Hi, Ollie,” I replied, smiling down at him. “I haven’t seen you in a while. How have you been doing?”
“I’m okay,” he replied, tone bright, seemingly oblivious to the very loud argument occurring behind the closed door at the far end of their hallway. “Are you here to play with Joey?” he asked them, all innocence and wide smiles.
“Ollie,” Shannon warned in a shaky tone. “Go back inside.”
“Yeah, I am,” I hurried to say. “Is he here?”
“Uh-huh,” Ollie replied, nodding dutifully, and causing Shannon to exhale a shaky sigh. “But he’s getting in trouble right now. You wanna come in and wait for him?”
It was the look of pure terror in his sister’s eyes that had me answering, “sure,” as I took a cautious step inside.
“Joe’s in big trouble again,” Ollie explained gesturing with his small hand to follow him into the sitting room. “It’s a bad one, this time.”
Bolting past me, Shannon hurried into the sitting room and scooped up a small bundle of what I first thought was a white blanket. Until the white blanket began to squawk and a small blond head popped out from behind said blanket.
“You have yourself a real cute baby on your hands,” I said, eyes locked on the wriggling infant in her arms, the one I remembered from the funeral.
“No, no, no,” she strangled out, as she rocked him in her scrawny little arms. “He’s notmybaby.”
“That’s Sean,” Ollie explained, climbing onto the worn-looking couch and then patting the space next to him. “He’s the newest one of us.”
