by Alison Stone
While driving to the hospital, Violet had prayed the entire way for Liam's well-being. Initially, Chad had offered to drive her to the hospital, but then he had to stay back to deal with the fire department. After answering a few questions of her own—why had she left a candle burning?—she had grown impatient and left without Chad. Surprisingly, as she repeated prayers over and over in her head while she drove, she had forgotten to do her mental body scan for potential panic symptoms.
Strange how things worked. The more she got outside herself, the less she manufactured panic symptoms.
Unbuttoning her sweater, Violet slowed by the receptionist's desk in the lobby of the small town hospital. It took her a moment to find her voice. "I'm here to check on a patient who just came in. Liam Cooper."
Please, please, Lord, let Liam be okay. She remembered news stories of children being pulled from pools who seemed okay, but then died at hospitals from secondary drowning. Did this thing happen to kids with smoke inhalation? Her stomach dropped at the thought.
Dear Lord, please let Liam be okay.
Behind the desk, the elderly woman dressed in a pink smock smiled, an expression that seemed more practiced than genuine. Her white name tag read Marge, punched out from one of those label makers Violet once used to label her shoe boxes when she thought it was a good idea to organize her closet. Marge turned toward the computer at her workstation and widened her eyes, as if surprised to see the large monitor in front of her. She lifted her readers on the chain around her neck to her eyes and tilted her head back to study the keyboard. Each precious key stroke seemed to take an eternity. Violet's forced smile felt fragile the longer she held it.
"Do you have identification? A driver's license?" The woman said, tilting her head even farther back to look at Violet through the lenses of her glasses.
Violet dug out her driver's license with shaky fingers and handed it to Marge. The little patience she had ebbed out of her.
The volunteer smiled and looked into Violet's eyes as if to say, Don't I know you?
Violet got that sometimes, being the daughter of Jacque Caldwell. But rarely around Hunters Ridge. People sometimes saw her in a photograph with her mother, but mostly she tried to stay anonymous. She had even kept the last name her mother had created for her when she moved to Hunters Ridge. It made Violet feel safe. Safer.
Marge handed the license back. "Let me see if I can find the information you need."
"Yes, Liam Cooper is in—" She lifted her shaky hand to the monitor and squinted and dragged it across the screen to line it up "—Room 115."
Hope swelled in Violet's chest. "He's already in a room? He's not in the ER?" That had to be a good sign, right?
The woman tore off a purple "visitor" sticker from a roll affixed to the underside of the counter and handed it to Violet, then pointed down to her right. "115 is down the west hall. Due to privacy laws, I can't tell you any information about the patient."
"I understand. Thank you." Violet's voice cracked on the simple expression of gratitude.
She turned and strode quickly down the hall, doing everything in her power not to break out into an all-out sprint. Her heart thundered in her ears.
Dear Lord, please let Liam be okay.
Her simple prayer had become a constant refrain in her heart. She found it comforting—and distracting.
Violet pushed open the door to the far wing of the hospital. She froze when she saw Theo talking to a nurse midway down the hall. He plowed a hand through his hair and leaned back…in grief? In relief? She couldn't decipher between the two very different emotions from this far away.
The hot surge of blood in her ears deafened her. The hallway stretched into a narrow tunnel with pulsating walls. Fighting back the sensations crowding in on her, she took a step forward. Theo turned and saw her approaching.
His body stilled.
When she reached him, she bowed her head, unable to force the words past her lips. She drew in a deep breath and lifted her chin to meet his concerned gaze. "How is Liam?"
Theo touched her arm and gave her a quick nod. A ghost of a smile touched the corners of his mouth. Even before he said anything, relief washed over her. She flattened her palm on his solid chest; the need to ground herself was overwhelming.
"He's okay?" she whispered. "He's really okay?"
Theo nodded. "He's okay. The doctor wants to keep him under observation overnight. Liam had asthmatic symptoms when he was a baby, so she's keeping him out of an abundance of caution."
"Can I see him?" Tears blurred her vision. She had never been more grateful.
Thank you, Lord.
Theo nodded. "He's sleeping, but go on in."
Violet looked up at him and they locked gazes for a long minute. "Thank you," she whispered. She slipped past him and stopped at the end of Liam's bed. The last time she had seen the little guy was when he had fallen asleep while she was reading him stories. She bowed her head and felt the flood of tears coming.
"What is it?" Theo asked, his voice thick with concern.
"I'm sorry." The need to explain, to ease the guilt weighing on her chest, was strong. "He had fallen asleep on the couch and I slipped out to get him a snack from the break room." She shook her head, searching the recesses of her mind. "I couldn't have been gone that long…"
She lifted a shaky hand to her forehead.
"When I came back, I saw the smoke. Black smoke." She sniffed. "I'm so, so sorry. I bring trouble wherever I go. It's dangerous to be around me."
First Abby, now this…
If only I hadn't lit the candle.
She had to admit her mistake to Theo. Clear her conscience.
"Dad…" Liam said in a groggy voice.
Violet and Theo both turned toward the bed.
"Sorry, did we wake you buddy?" Theo whispered.
"Where am I?" Liam mumbled.
"You're okay." Theo walked around to the other side of the bed and took his son's hand in his and brought it to his lips. "You gave us a little scare, is all."
"Is the trailer on fire?" Liam asked, his eyes wide, the deep brown color so much like his dad's.
Theo cut her a sideways glance before turning his attention back to his son. "The firefighters took care of it. Don't worry." He patted his son's hand. "Do you remember anything?"
Liam narrowed his gaze. "I couldn't open the door. I was all by myself."
Violet wrapped her hands around the bedside rail and squeezed. "I'm sorry. I went to get you hot chocolate and cookies."
Liam scrunched up his nose. "I fell asleep when you were reading me a book, but I woke up to a crashing sound. And then I smelled smoke and I couldn't open the door."
Violet and Theo exchanged confused gazes.
"You heard a crash?" Theo asked.
"Yeah." A faraway look descended in Liam's eyes as if he were remembering something. "It sounded like when I hit the ball and it smashed the back window. Everything got smoky." Liam's lower lip quivered and tears welled in his eyes. "I couldn't open the door. So I got down on the floor." His nostrils flared and Violet's heart broke.
She reached out and touched his leg. "I'm sorry I left you alone." What had he heard? Had the window exploded from the heat?
Theo ran his knuckles across his son's pale cheek. "All that matters is that you're safe now. You're safe now."
Violet pressed a kiss to Liam's forehead. "I need to talk to your daddy in private. We'll be right back, okay?"
He smiled. Such a trusting little boy.
Violet tipped her head toward the door and Theo followed her. When they got into the hall, she turned around and faced him, nerves tangling in her belly. "There's something I need to tell you."
"What?"
"I left a candle burning."
Theo narrowed his gaze, apparently not understanding.
"I'm so sorry." How many times would she have to apologize in her life?
He turned around and rubbed the back of his neck, then spun back around. "But Li
am heard a crashing noise.”
Violet bit her bottom lip. "You think something else started the fire?"
"I don't know, but I think you're missing something."
"What?"
Theo held up his finger. He slipped back into the room and returned a moment later. "Your coat."
Something about the way he said it made her stomach drop. She took it, studying his expression. "What is it?"
Theo reached into the coat pocket and pulled out the bottle of bills. "These fell out.”
Time morphed into slow motion as she recalled all the events that had led them to this moment. She wrapped her fingers around the bottle and clutched it down by her side, wishing she could melt into the floor as she braced for the interrogation.
"Who's Zoe Michaels?"
"One of my mother's assistants."
They locked eyes for a long moment. "It's none of my business, but…" He glanced back into the room where his son lay. "If this is who you are—"
"Zoe thought it would be good for my anxiety. I—" She shook her head. She didn't owe him an explanation. She had been working hard to overcome her anxiety through grit and determination. How could he possibly understand?
Theo's shoulders sagged and he plowed a hand through his hair. "If that's the case, you should have your own prescription, not take pills from someone else. That's how Jenny started, with prescription drugs illegally obtained." Something flashed in the depths of his eyes. "Liam can't have any more chaos in his life."
A chill worked its way up her spine. She wanted to say she understood, but the words sat like a rock on her tongue.
Violet showered and threw on sweats and wandered downstairs. She poured a glass of wine, stacked wood in the fireplace and lit the kindling. Once it finally caught, she plopped down. She swirled the glass of wine, staring through the burgundy liquid at the dancing flames.
She took another long sip of the wine, trying to let the tension from the day slip away.
"Rough day?"
Violet shifted on the couch to look over her shoulder. Betty stood in the doorway to the kitchen. "Yeah."
"Want to tell me about it?"
Violet put her wine glass on the coffee table in front of her. She stood and got another glass of wine for Betty and handed it to her.
Her mother's housekeeper sat down next to her and shifted to face her. Violet poured out her heart to the woman who had been more like a mother to her than her own mother. She fought back the tears, fearing if she started she'd never stop.
Betty patted Violet’s knee. "Liam's okay. Everything's going to be fine."
Violet ran a hand under her nose. "Theo's never going to talk to me again."
"He'll come around."
Violet swallowed hard. "If the fire wasn't bad enough, he found the medication in my coat pocket. I laid my coat down on the gravel for Liam when he was pulled from the fire."
Betty tipped her head, inviting her to continue. She had always been a wonderful listener, nonjudgmental and kind.
"Liam's mom has issues with drugs. He told me he doesn't want any more drama in Liam's life." Her voice trembled.
Betty studied her with kind eyes. "Do you have a problem?"
Violet slowly shook her head. "With drugs? No. I should have thrown the bottle out. They were a security blanket of sorts. I felt like as long as I had them near me, I could push through my fears."
Betty traced the rim of her wine glass with her finger. "If you need help getting through your anxiety, there's no shame in that. But go to a doctor. See what would work best for you. Don't take drugs like this—something from one of your mother's assistants."
Theo had suggested something similar. But that would mean admitting defeat. Acknowledging she couldn’t battle through her anxiety on her own, without meds.
Violet got up and went to the front closet. She slipped the bottle out of her coat pocket and stared at it for a minute. She handed it to Betty. "Can you take it to one of those medication drop-off sites? I'd do it myself, but—"
Betty accepted the bottle and slipped it into her pocket. "I'll take care of it." She pulled Violet into an embrace.
Betty smelled like home. "Thank you." The sound of her cell phone drew Violet's attention. "I should get it. What if it's news about Liam?"
"Go."
Violet untucked her legs and scrambled to reach her phone on the edge of the coffee table. Her heart plummeted when she saw her mother's number on the display. They hadn't spoken for at least three weeks. It was like she had some sort of ESP to call on one of her worst days.
"Hi, Mother." Violet forced a smile. Her mother could sense misfortune and she'd quiz Violet on how she might have brought it upon herself. She was uplifting like that.
"Violet! A girl should call her mother every so often. How are you?"
Violet sniffed and immediately realized her error.
"Is everything okay?" Jacque asked.
"I had a long day."
"A long day?" The grating tone of disbelief scraped across Violet's nerves. She could imagine a wine glass dangling from her mother's fingertips and a shoe swinging from her toes as she swayed her crossed leg. Violet’s gaze drifted to her own wine glass on the coffee table.
Like mother, like daughter.
"I'm fine, Mother," Violet amended, not wanting to rehash her day to an unsympathetic listener.
"When are you coming back? We need you."
"It's nice to be needed."
Her mother laughed in a haughty tone. "You make it sound like you didn't already know that."
"I do. I just need more time."
Her mother sighed. "You've had a tough loss."
Violet held her breath, waiting for the "but."
"But…"
And there it was.
"…the world is a tough place. You were always too sensitive. You need to pull yourself together. Come back to work."
"Just a little more time. I'm helping out a friend in town with their record-keeping."
"Really? Who?" As if it were impossible for Violet to have established friendships in the years she had lived here.
"Theo Cooper."
"Theo? Why does that name sound familiar?"
"I'm not sure." Because he was the boy who took me to the prom and broke my heart. But her mother didn't remember silly little details like that.
There was that deep sigh again. "Don't take too long. I need you."
"Thanks, Mother. Good night."
"Night," her mother replied, an edge of hurt in her voice. She didn't like to be dismissed.
But tonight, Violet couldn't keep deflecting her mom’s dismissive comments without destroying her soul.
Chapter 15
Theo had to squint into the black of night to see where the snowy road ended and the steep incline down the hill began. He hated how he and Violet had left things at the hospital earlier that afternoon. He hadn't been thinking clearly. The scare of almost losing Liam in the fire had made him irrational.
The sight of the pill bottle had also triggered something in him so deep, so primal, he lashed out. Jenny's drug use had hurt his son—their son—deeply. He had to protect his son.
Ironically, Jenny had come up to the hospital and kicked him out. She was going to protect her son. She was going to stay with him all night. Apparently, she was using this tragic event to be seen as the better parent.
Not wanting to upset Liam, Theo had slipped out, promising to come back in the morning.
Theo parked his truck in the circular driveway and climbed out. He hadn't called Violet ahead of time for fear she'd tell him not to come. He'd deserve that. But he played his hunch that she'd been brought up to be polite and couldn't ignore him if he showed up at her door.
Theo rang the doorbell. A minute later, Violet opened the door dressed in sweatpants and a purple hoodie. She stuffed her hands in her pockets and turned around and headed into the house. The open door was a silent invitation to come in.
Theo closed the
door behind him. Violet led him to the couch in front of the fireplace. Two half-full wine glasses sat on the coffee table. "Can I get you something to drink?"
"No, thanks."
Violet sat down and patted the cushion next to her. "Is Liam okay?"
"Yes, his mom is staying with him overnight. Kicked me out."
"Hmm…" she muttered.
“Olivia called me about the fire."
Violet lifted an eyebrow, waiting for him to continue.
"The fire investigator determined that a Molotov cocktail had been thrown through the window of the trailer."
Violet dragged a hand through her hair and her shoulders relaxed a fraction. "That explains the crashing sound Liam heard."
"Probably." Theo nodded.
"It wasn't the candle."
"No, not a candle." Theo leaned forward, wanting to run a comforting hand down her arm, but he stopped short. "You're usually in the trailer at that time."
She looked up at him with wide eyes, coming to the same conclusion he already had.
"There's a strong possibility that whoever firebombed the trailer was targeting you."
Violet let out a long, shaky breath. "This is unbelievable. No one I care about is safe. What am I supposed to do?"
Theo rubbed her arm gently. "You don't have to be alone."
Violet bent at the middle and covered her face with her hands. Her shoulders trembled. "I can't apologize enough." She shook her head. "I should have never brought my problems to your doorstep. I—"
Theo gently took Violet by both shoulders and pulled her toward him. "This is not your fault." He brushed his thumb across the soft fabric of her sleeve.
"I was naïve. I thought I could retreat to Hunters Ridge and I'd be safe. Like when I was a teenager. But…" She seemed hesitant. "What if the person who killed Abby followed me here? What am I supposed to do?" she repeated. "Go hide somewhere else? I don't have anywhere else to go." She probably had a million places to go, but he sensed she meant she had nowhere else she wanted to go.
The doorbell had them both snapping their attention toward the front of the house. Theo stood. "I'll get it."