Fringe covered his ears and sat down. Keeping his eyes on Mallory, he started to sway.
A few yards from the cluster of saplings, Mallory made no move to get the workbook. Cupping her hands around her mouth, she made a do-it-yourself megaphone.
“Ava, tell your dad,” she shouted. “Let everyone know what it’s really like here.”
At first Ava thought Mallory had bent down to tie her own laces. Then a horrible crack echoed off the narrow valley walls, then another. It didn’t make sense—what Ava saw her roommate do. Over. And. Over. It took three whacks for Mallory to fall to the dirt after smashing herself in the head with a rock.
“You’re not telling anyone anything!” The sound of Justice shouting at Ava was muffled, his hands suddenly clapped hard over her ears. He held her head so tight, she pictured it popping off her body. In her mind Ava knew this was the most terrible thing that had happened since she’d arrived at Mount Hope, yet strangely, she felt calm. More disconnected from herself than ever before, Ava kept her eyes on the blood pooling around Mallory’s body.
“Look at him!” Justice forced Ava to look to the place where Fringe sat rocking and moaning, “No, no.”
“He’s been here three times,” Justice said. “You might be able to get Daddy to take you out today, but the next time you come home late or don’t clean your room, he’ll ship you right back. It’s what parents do with losers like you.” Justice turned her face back to his, his sour breath hanging between them. “He’ll say he loves you. That all he wants to do is help you. But back here you will come. And when he sends you away again, I will be right here waiting for you. I will make your life a living hell.” He pushed her down on the ground next to Fringe, then he smacked Benno across the face. “Don’t just stand there. Run and get Medical up here. Don’t you dare tell a single Seed on the way.”
Benno dropped the rope at their feet, and before Justice could say or do anything else, he took off down the mountain.
FOURTEEN
Toby could hardly see straight as he made his way down the grand stairs to the lobby for day two of parents’ weekend. After they’d all been shown to their respective rooms well after midnight, he’d slept in fits and starts, his mind preoccupied, reviewing the barrage of indictments Pax had leveled against him in front of everyone, trying to sort out which rang true.
He’d never claimed to be father of the year, but Toby had a hard time accepting that all of Ava’s problems were squarely and solely his fault. Sins of omission he could swallow, but his daughter’s claims that he intentionally, maliciously pushed her away, driving her to self-destruct? He didn’t believe that.
Nan stood at the bottom of the stairs nervously tapping her wristwatch. She looked like she was ready to storm the dreaded conference room, while Toby had to force himself to put one foot in front of the other.
He arched his back, stretched his shoulders, and placed a hand on his chest as he walked over to Nan, his heartburn acting up again. “You got any Zantac in that big bag of yours?” he asked her.
“Sorry,” Nan said, noticing him. “That’s not the only thing I wish I’d packed.” She pointed a finger to her head and with her thumb pulled an imaginary trigger. “This place is killing me. How guilty do you feel this morning?”
“I just want to see Ava. If she’s doing as well as they say, maybe I could buy all this.” Even as he said it, he didn’t believe it. Toby couldn’t get past the fact that along with some wild confessions, Ava had written some blatant lies in her workbook. How much could they really be helping her if she was still lying?
“You didn’t do it, did you?” Nan asked, placing her hand on Toby’s forearm, sending a tingle up and down his left arm.
“Sign her up for another month, you mean? God, no.”
“Shall we get right to it?” Pax asked, flinging open the double doors. A cluster of parents trailed him. Most of the group chose the same chairs they’d sat in the day before. Pax made his way to the raised platform at the front of the room. “Your children are due back shortly from their overnight. Sessions with counselors start at ten. There’s one more exercise we need to do before they get here.”
Pax chose three women from among his admirers to go to the head of the class. Each one took a seat on the opposite side of a long table, staring out at the rest of the group. Toby wondered if these women, and a handful of other parents, were planted in the session to lend credibility to the director. One woman in particular was always thanking Pax, talking loudly enough for everyone to hear. She must have said a dozen times that he’d single-handedly saved her son’s life. Toby didn’t see how that could be true if the kid and his mother were still here.
“When I call your name, I’d like you to come up and plead your case in front of these judges. In this mock trial exercise, you’ll need to prove to them, and to the rest of us, that you deserve to have your son or daughter back,” Pax said.
Here we go again, Toby thought. He looked at poor Nan. The group hadn’t been sitting there a full minute and she was already sighing. He couldn’t blame her. She’d told him how awful it was fighting her own brother for custody of Arthur. It seemed heartless to make a game of what this woman was actually going through.
“Mr. Sedgwick. We’ll start with you.”
Toby stood, stretching one leg at a time, working out the aches his body had memorized from spending so many hours the day before in those hard plastic chairs.
“I’d like to file a motion to postpone,” he said, smoothing out the wrinkles in his slacks.
No one laughed.
“You find this funny?” Pax asked. “Are you aware that Ava arrived here not a moment too soon? Had you postponed your decision to send her to Mount Hope, your daughter could have killed herself. Need I remind you of the train incident?”
“No, of course not. I guess I just don’t see the benefit of pleading my case to them.” Toby pointed to the women presiding over him. “Call me a skeptic, but they’re here too. They know as much about teenagers as I do.”
The woman who sang in Pax’s choir gave Toby a disgusted look. The other two sat there, arms crossed, playing their roles as adjudicators.
“To tell you the truth, I can’t focus on another one of these exercises. I’d rather spend my time with my daughter. I need to see her, talk with her about what she wrote. I need to know she’s all right.” Toby rubbed his chest again. A sick, unsettled feeling came over him when he talked about Ava. Ten o’clock couldn’t come fast enough.
Pax moved to the center of the raised platform, standing behind the judges. “You’re glib, Mr. Sedgwick. You should be more responsible. Learn about what you don’t know. I’ve explained repeatedly, all teenagers embellish their workbook entries in the beginning. That’s one of the reasons we ask overeager parents to wait until the students reach a higher level. It takes time for them to sort out the reality of their situations.”
Toby felt weak in the knees thinking about Ava’s lies—and the things he’d been keeping from her.
“Here’s the cold, hard truth,” Pax said. “Ava can’t be authentic with you, because you’re not being real with her. When she was home, did she avoid you? Then seek you out only to argue with you? Yell at you? Lie to you?”
All Toby could do was nod.
“I assure you, when you see Ava this morning, you won’t recognize her. She’ll be a different girl. Calm. Polite. Centered. You see, Mr. Sedgwick, you are at the root of your daughter’s problems. You’re emotionally detached. If you and Ava are going to learn to communicate effectively, you’re going to need to stop taking things so literally. Stop being obtuse. In your session today, force yourself to look at the emotions behind the words. Stop stuffing your feelings, as you so clearly do—with food.”
Pax maintained eye contact as he threw the final zinger.
“Look at you,” he said. “Out of breath from getting out of your chair. Your belt on its last notch. It’s long past time you look at what you’re eating and wha
t’s eating you.”
There it was.
Toby had wondered when the director would point out that he’d let himself go. Pax had thrown a light on every other character flaw Toby had. He couldn’t think of a single thing to say in response.
Tugging his shirt at the chest, he crossed his arms as if there were a way to diminish his size in front of all those judging eyes. Then a female counselor moved up the aisle. After climbing onstage, she whispered something in Pax’s ear. The room went dead quiet. The director’s face remained still. Oddly, it was his complete lack of movement that told Toby something was terribly wrong.
“There’s been an accident,” Pax said, sounding robotic. “None of your children were involved.”
A collective sigh came from the audience.
“One of our junior counselor girls has been taken by med-flight to the nearby medical center. Counselors are standing by to take you to your sessions.”
“Is she going to be okay?” Toby asked, wondering if it was one of the kids he’d met yesterday.
“I’m obligated to respect the student’s privacy. Trust me, everything’s under control.”
Toby felt bad for the injured kid, but now was his chance to see Ava. Moving faster than he had all weekend, he maneuvered past Pax, who’d come down off the dais to move toward Nan.
“Ms. McEttrick, I need a word with you,” Pax said.
Toby was panting by the time he reached the lobby. Ava stood next to a counselor about his age, a guy with a military air about him. He was talking to her in low tones. She stared at the rug, smoothing out the sharp crease running down the center of what looked like a brand-new T-shirt. Neon yellow, the thing hung off her slight frame as if she were its hanger. God, she looked thin. Loose strands of hair framed her sunburned cheeks. Toby couldn’t decide if she looked healthy or not. It didn’t matter. Seeing her filled the hollow place in his chest. All he wanted to do was wrap her in a bear hug. He stopped himself reaching for her when he remembered Pax’s cautionary words.
Don’t come on too strong. Take your cues from your child.
“Honey,” he said. “It’s so good to see you.”
“Hi,” she said shyly, no edge to her voice but no warmth either.
He wondered if she was still mad at him for sending her here, but he couldn’t tell.
“I’m Justice,” the counselor said, nearly snapping Toby’s fingers off with his handshake. “I gotta say, your daughter surprises us on a daily basis.”
Toby didn’t like that the guy had his arm around Ava, pulling her close. While she didn’t say anything, Ava leaned into him like a solid block of wood. Not a single muscle moved.
“Ava was one of a handful of standouts on our overnight. Moved up an entire level.” He elbowed her as if they had a private joke. “A number of students are eligible to get out of their bunk rooms tonight. She might be the lucky one who gets to come up to our special room here at the lodge.”
Ava looked at him only briefly before breaking eye contact. In that second that father and daughter connected, her eyes were vacant. How was he supposed to look for the emotion behind the words if she offered him nothing? If she was completely shut down?
“It’s a beautiful day,” Toby said. “I say we grab a couple of coffees and go for a walk around the lake.”
“Coffee’s a drug,” Ava said.
Justice waved another counselor over. “Maybe later, Daddy-o,” Justice said, his friendliness becoming irksome. “You and Ava have a session with her one-on-one counselor. Here comes Honor now.”
Ava’s counselor was the woman who’d broken the news to Pax about the accident. Toby could tell she was still preoccupied.
“How’s that girl?” Toby asked. “Is she going to be okay?”
Ava moved now, the smallest flick of her eyes, first over to Justice, then back to Honor.
“Kid sure is a daredevil. Loves anything to do with the ropes. Pushed herself too far in an outdoor challenge. I was right there supervising.” Justice talked fast, rambling details of what had to be a frightening moment for all of them. “Crazy Mallory —”
“I’m sorry, Mr. Sedgwick,” Honor interrupted. “We shouldn’t really get into it. We need to talk to the girl’s family first. You understand.” Her face went pale as she shoved her hands deep into her pockets.
“That’s terrible. I think I met Mallory yesterday. You send your child here; you think it’s safe.”
“It’s upsetting to be sure.” Honor put a hand on Ava’s arm, giving Toby a look that said, let it go. “We have a lot to discuss, so shall we?”
Honor led the way down a long corridor; Ava and Toby followed behind. Their group entered a small office and took seats around a table. Toby was relieved when Justice didn’t join them. The counselor’s tough-guy persona swathed in fake sociability annoyed Toby. And as he recalled from one of Ava’s earliest letters, she didn’t much like the guy either.
Honor opened a folder already laid out there. “As you know, I’m Ava’s one-on-one counselor. And we’ve met, let’s see.” The woman seemed nervous as she counted out session dates on her fingers. “Nine times.”
Ava stared straight ahead.
Honor blathered on about how she experienced Ava and how proud she was that she’d finally turned herself in on her self-destructive behavior. “It took her some time to own up. But Ava’s made progress lately.”
“This owning up bit, is this where we get to talk about the things Ava wrote in her workbook?” Toby asked, pointing to the table behind Honor where a stack of them sat piled high. “I’d like to get into that.”
“I apologize,” Honor said, pressing her lips together. “I inadvertently left Ava’s in my cabin. Where we typically meet.” She cleared her throat. “Regardless, this is Ava’s session. She can talk about whatever she wants.”
Toby moved forward in his chair, angling his body so he could see Ava’s face. If he could make eye contact, he could better gauge what he should and shouldn’t say about what she’d written. The last thing Toby wanted to do was get her into trouble. Say the wrong thing, and he could get her special privilege taken away.
His daughter’s face gave away nothing. Ava sat still as a statue next to Toby, her eyes cast down.
“Honey, I don’t care about the mistakes you made back in Wellesley. That’s all in the past as far as I’m concerned. But we need to talk about your mother. And Poppy. It’s time to get the whole terrible thing out in the open.”
Ava’s whole body stiffened. When she looked up her mouth began to tremble. She shook her head, no, no.
“Going to Thailand was the trip of a lifetime,” Toby said. “At first everything was perfect.” His words were practiced, as if he were reading from a script.
“So you were there?” Honor looked first at Ava, and then back to Toby in disbelief. “Why wouldn’t you tell us something so vital to your daughter’s well-being?”
Toby’s indigestion was back in full force. What was she talking about? He’d told the story more times than he’d cared to. First to the intake coordinator and then to Paxton Worth.
The burning in Toby’s chest was as unbearable as it had been the first time that idiot confronted Nan in group. Nan. She wouldn’t sit by hemming and hawing about what to do next. Nan would speak up.
“That’s it. Ava, let’s go.” Toby cupped his daughter’s elbow with his hand as he stood. She flinched and shook him off.
Honor looked toward the exit. Toby moved one step away from Ava; he opened the door.
“We can leave right now,” he said to Ava. “Walk straight out of here. Find our own counselor and go over every last horrible thing that’s happened to us.”
His daughter finally turned toward him. Toby hated the way she stared through him.
“I love you, Ava. All I want to do is help you.”
Ava’s hands were folded, clenched tight on the top of the table. They trembled as she spoke. “Mount Hope is helping me reclaim my life.” Her breathing was
shallow, her voice mechanical, scarily rote, no sign of her signature melodic tone. Ava was as different as Pax had claimed she would be. Except his daughter wasn’t polite and calm, she was flat. His Ava would be like Nan. His girl would say what she wanted.
“The program works. Honor’s living proof.”
“I read what you wrote,” Toby said. “I know you’re mad at me, but we need to talk about Thailand.”
Honor covered Ava’s hands with one of her own. The gesture calmed his daughter, as if the counselor knew exactly how to bring her back under control.
Ava was about to say something when Pax appeared, gesturing for Toby to move into the hallway.
“Mr. Sedgwick, please. Is there a problem?” Pax asked, guiding Toby by the elbow away from the session room door. “We don’t abide raised voices in our counseling sessions.”
“We’re leaving. Have someone bring my things to the lobby. I’m taking Ava home,” Toby said.
Pax leaned in, lowering his voice. “I’m afraid you can’t do that. It’s in your daughter’s best interest to remain here for the duration of the program. You were right, Mr. Sedgwick, she’s been scarred by the horrific events that occurred when she was young. Ava’s only begun to benefit from the intensive therapy we offer here. You are ill-equipped. And you simply can’t rush this process. In fact, there’s consensus among the counselors that her stay should be extended by at least two months.”
Toby pulled at his shirt collar in an effort to get more air. “You’ve got to be kidding. You want me to leave my daughter in your care after you didn’t tell her counselor about her mother and sister?”
“Honor’s new. Forms get misplaced. These details are neither here nor there. I assure you Honor and your daughter have been engaged in meaningful grief work since Ava arrived here. Regardless, you signed a contract putting me in charge of making decisions on your daughter’s behalf. I’m legally obligated to hold you to our agreement.”
Girl Sent Away Page 11