by S. Massery
My eyes fill with tears. “Lenora? You believe me?”
She hadn’t… “If you say he didn’t do it, then yes. I believe you.”
Caleb scoffs.
Josh rises. “Gather some things, Margo, if you would.”
Whirlwind. Like so many other things in my life, this is happening almost too fast to comprehend.
Accident. Kidnapped. Hospital. Home. And now—Caleb’s home.
I shove clothes into a bag. I don’t know how long I’ll be, so I take only a few items. My school uniform. Toiletries from the bathroom.
Caleb is in my room when I return, sitting on my bed again.
“Matt fucking Bonner,” he repeats. “That’s the part that doesn’t make sense. He was helping me find you. He’s my friend.”
I lift my shoulder. “I don’t know.”
My gaze clashes with his, and he exhales. “You’re crying.”
I swipe at my cheeks. They’re wet. “I don’t know why I’m crying.”
And yet, it keeps building. The sadness.
“Mom told me not to tell.” I stare down at my boots. “I promised.”
“I know.”
“I have a history of not keeping my promises, Caleb. How can you believe anything that comes out of my mouth?”
He may be a liar, but so am I.
I was the original.
“I know you,” he says. “Okay? I know you. And some promises you won’t break.” He reaches out and snags my wrist, pulling me closer. Between his legs.
“Why can’t we go back to normal?” I ask.
He laughs. His thumb brushes my cheek. “Normal? What’s that?”
I giggle—and then abruptly stop. I laughed. Robert is in the hospital and I laughed. And—
“Stop.”
His gaze is dark. I could run from it, but what’s the use? He’d just find me again.
I back away from him and grab my bag. It’s an improvement from the garbage bags I’ve had to use in the past. This one is thicker canvas. It won’t break on me.
An omen if I’ve ever heard one.
And then… I leave him there. Sitting in my room, staring at me like I’m still his salvation.
I’m not. I’m so not.
I’m dirty. Just as dark as him now. Maybe worse. Because I remember the start of my awful betrayal, and I know the memories that will come next: I’ll tell someone.
I’ll betray my mother.
It’s in my blood. It’s in my history. So what if I do that to Caleb? What if the next time the detective asks, I lie and say he did take me?
Would I do that to him?
I don’t know myself anymore. I don’t know anything.
8
Caleb
I watch her when she thinks I’m not.
Or maybe she feels my gaze and is an expert in ignoring me. Fuck if I know.
We loaded up into the car and drove in silence. I sprawled across the backseat, my eyes on the back of her neck, and turn over all the revelations.
One: she knows what she witnessed.
Mother insisted Margo made it up, but I figured it was a little too far-fetched for a ten-year-old to create. So I held on to the belief that Margo saw Dad fucking her mom, and let my own mother live in the fantasy world she created.
Without that truth—that Dad had cheated—her whole world stayed intact.
Two: Matt Bonner kidnapped her.
It doesn’t make sense. He didn’t even know her until the first football game I took Margo to, and by that point, Margo had already been receiving texts for a while.
I long to reach forward and touch her, to move the hair off her neck and kiss down her shoulder. To chase away the shadows in her eyes.
Margo Wolfe has her own demons now.
I know all about them.
We get back, and I take the bag out of the trunk. She follows Eli’s dad slowly, like the house is going to suddenly realize she’s intruding and catapult her out. We go up the stairs, down the hall. The room on the end, across from the bathroom, is all hers.
Mrs. Black is a good decorator. Normally the room is a bit cold and formal—more like an adult’s guest room than anything else—but in the short time she had, she’s transformed it.
There’s a fuzzy, hot-pink pillow in the center of the bed. The comforter and throw pillows, which used to be all white, have been replaced with a floral print. Muted colors, but color nonetheless.
A desk in the corner has a vase of flowers.
The curtains are thrown open wide, letting in a stream of light.
I put the bag down on the desk chair.
“Make yourself comfortable,” Mr. Black says. “I have to go make a few phone calls. Norah is picking up some groceries, but she should be home soon.”
I eye him. There’s no way he didn’t see this coming.
He leaves, and then it’s just us.
My phone has been steadily blowing up in the last hour, but I’ve ignored it. Now, I pull it out and scroll through the messages. Half of them are from Riley.
“Do you have your phone?” I ask.
Margo lies on the bed, her dark hair fanning across the pink pillow. “They took it, I think. Or I lost it in the accident.”
I frown. “You haven’t been able to contact… anyone you wanted?”
She shrugs. “Riley came by the hospital, but she wasn’t allowed to stay. They were going to come over. I assume Lenora took care of that.
I hand her my phone.
While half are from Riley, the other half are random people from school asking if Margo is okay. My lacrosse team, some of the nicer cheerleaders…
“I notice Amelie and Savannah don’t give a shit,” she mumbles.
She types out a text, then sets the phone down. “Matt had an alibi.”
I squint. “What?”
“What if I’m misremembering everything? Like my brain just put in a person who didn’t really make sense—”
“You don’t trust yourself?”
“How could I?” She stares up at the ceiling. “I forgot that my own mother cheated on Dad with yours.”
“It was traumatic,” I say. “For us, yes, but… I wasn’t allowed to forget.”
She sits up. Her head tilts. “What do you mean?”
I could give her this. A little bit of my side.
“After Dad died, Mom couldn’t stand to be in the house. She was self-destructing.”
“Not as bad as mine,” she whispers.
I crack a smile. “No, Mother didn’t turn to drugs. But she did think she couldn’t parent me anymore, so she carted me off to my aunt and uncle’s house.”
Margo freezes. “No.”
“Uncle David is Dad’s brother. He was… not happy. And all I wanted was to get you back.” I sit beside her. “He was the one who did his best to turn me against you. And I hate to say that he was successful, but he was. It was easy to blame you for everything that happened.”
She bites her lip.
Everything is so fucking fragile right now.
“I’ll let you sleep,” I eventually say. I don’t know how to talk to her. What to do to make it better.
I’ll figure it out, though.
She lets me go. I half expect her to call me back, but she doesn’t.
And all of a sudden, energy burns through me. It twitches my limbs. Fuck Matt and his alibi, and whoever else was with him. I bang on Eli’s door, shoving it open without waiting for an answer.
He’s at his desk, chewing on the end of a pen.
“Homework?” I ask.
“Yeah. How’s Margo?”
“I don’t know. I need to get out of here.”
He chuckles. “Yeah, I could use some exercise.”
We both change into running gear and meet at the front door.
“A mile?” he suggests.
I roll my eyes. “Five.”
“You’re trying to kill me right out of the gate, huh?”
“First one back gets—”
I need to remember that.
I chase after Eli.
9
Unknown
You don’t see me.
None of you SEE me.
Caleb carries your bag into the house. You’re like a little bird, fluttering your wings against the cage. Still trapped, even if you don’t know it.
From one prison to another.
From one master to another.
They’re going to clip your wings, Margo. They’ll keep you locked away forever.
Except you think your cage is a house, and your keeper is your lover.
Foolish. Foolish to believe in love when it’s nothing more than noise, thunder rumbling over our heads.
And luck is just a flash of lightning, brief and bright.
I only need one strike.
10
Margo
Silence settles over the house. I try my best to fall asleep, but the pain medication is wearing off. Angela had given me a prescription bottle before I left, and Lenora had kissed my cheek.
Tears prick my eyes.
Most of all, I want… Robert.
He would know what to say to make me feel better. He’s good with words. He’s good at seeing me. Hell, his entire life is communicating with teenagers. It’s no surprise he took to parenting.
Norah, Eli’s mom, knocks on the open door.
“Hey, sweetie,” she says. “How are you feeling?”
The tears spill down my face.
She comes over and sits on the bed, pulling me into a hug. I wait a beat—maybe this is just an automatic reaction and she’ll realize who I am—but her arms stay wrapped around me. Her palms press into my back, gentle but sure.
I latch on to her, unable to control the sob working its way up my chest.
“Let it out,” she says.
Crying is exhausting.
“I-is Robert going to be okay?” I sniffle, leaning away to wipe my face.
“I hope so.”
“The detective doesn’t believe me. T-that Matt took me a-and Caleb didn’t.”
She rubs my shoulder. “Detective Masters went to school with Caleb’s dad. There’s some bad blood there.”
My head throbs. “Did he know my parents?”
She shifts. “We all did.”
“What?”
“Josh, Ben, and Keith were friends in high school. Josh and Ben played football together, and Keith…”
My dad.
It’s surreal to hear his name on her lips, after so many years of nothing.
“He was the smart one of the group.” She smiles.
“You knew my mom, too?”
Her smile fades fast. “I didn’t meet her until after college. Your parents came back to Rose Hill engaged, and your dad disowned.”
I squint at her. “Disowned?”
She nods. “You have a grandmother out there. At least, the last I knew… She had a home in England, so she may have relocated. Or passed away… I wish I could tell you for certain.”
“That’s…” The first I’m hearing of this. I have a grandmother. “I always figured they died. Dad never mentioned having anyone, and neither did Mom.”
It’s the reason I went into the foster system. The state couldn’t find anyone who would take me. No relatives they could contact. The last name Wolfe was a dead end.
“Dad never said anything about knowing the Ashers, either,” I mumble. “I thought we moved into their guest house because Mom got a job.”
Norah clucks her tongue. “No, I remember Keith calling up Josh and asking for help. They were struggling for a while, and then Amberly got pregnant with you…”
“I never knew.”
“Amberly wanted to make a name for herself. She was working like a crazy person—harder than I’d ever seen Josh work, and he worked eighty-hour weeks—and it all came crashing down on her…”
I flinch. Just what I want to hear: that I was the source of my mother’s misery. The anger that made her boil over.
“She loved you,” Norah adds.
“Didn’t Eli and Caleb not meet until after…”
She heaves a sigh. “Josh and Ben had a falling out when you all were young—in diapers. For the sake of our family, we cut ties and moved away. After Keith was arrested, he reached out to Josh. Said he felt caught in the middle of everything, that he was sorry.”
“So why did Dad get a public defender instead?”
“It would’ve been a conflict of interest.” She shakes her head. “Sometimes I wish Josh did defend Keith. But knowing…”
I flinch. “He didn’t do it.”
“I’m sorry, honey.”
This time, I remain silent. I shouldn’t expect to convince her of his innocence—I barely believe it myself. It’s more of a point of hope. If he didn’t do it, then he’s not the bad guy I thought.
And if he didn’t do it… who did?
Slowly, I pick myself up and go to my bag. “I think I just need to shower and…” I motion to my body. I showered at the hospital, but it was quick. I didn’t get to scrub my hair because of the stitches.
School is out of the question. As is going home. The least I can do is try to feel clean.
Norah stands. “Yes, of course. There are towels and soap in your bathroom, and I’ll… leave you to it.”
The door clicks shut behind her, and silence once again descends. For the first time since Caleb walked out, I wish he had stayed. But the need to ask that of him was overshadowed by guilt.
I cross into the bathroom and strip off my shirt. The stitches will come out in a few days, but already the swelling is better. My face is almost normal, except for a few scrapes from breaking glass and the gash.
Robert did his best to protect me. I close my eyes and see the accident in slow motion. The vehicle Matt was driving coming at us, hitting our car just in front of where I sat. The way his arm banded across my chest as we careened into a ditch. We were weightless for a moment, and then it all came smashing down.
Glass.
Metal.
Blood.
My torso is speckled with bruises, and one nasty one that stretches diagonally across my chest—the seatbelt’s grip.
It’s the backs of my legs that are the most cut up, thanks to Matt dragging me across the glass-ridden asphalt.
I shower, scrubbing my scalp and doing my best to avoid the stitches.
I find the scar on the back of my head, and I hesitate. I remember the stitches I had to get for it, but I don’t quite remember how it happened.
Falling backward, my head hitting the edge of… something.
A hand held mine in the hospital. The doctor cut away my hair and put stitches in. Or maybe it was staples?
With sudden clarity, I realize I lied to Caleb. I don’t have all my memories back. I don’t know how I got the scar or how I told Dad about Mom’s affair.
I don’t know how she reacted.
How the blood got on my door.
Dad has a story to tell. I thought that when I was there. Maybe he can jog my memory…
I rinse and dry as fast as I can, avoiding the rest of my bumps and bruises. After I pull on the loosest-fitting outfit I brought, I go up to the third floor, where Eli’s dad’s home office is.
He’s at his desk, staring down at a file.
I knock on the door, and his head jerks up. His gaze goes through me for a second, then he frowns. “Margo. You look a little pale.”
I shrug. Complaining never got me anywhere. And besides, Norah’s story has me hungry for more.
“Do you need to sit?”
I sink into the chair across from his desk. We sit in silence for a moment, and I try to think of the best way to word my question.
“I, um…” Yeah, this is going well.
Josh glances up, then slow
ly closes the file. “Why do I think you came in here for a purpose?”
“You’re defending Caleb, right? In case Detective Masters tries to arrest him again.”
“I am. I doubt Masters will do anything without solid evidence and a warrant.”
I chew on my lower lip for a minute. “But he arrested…”
“They’re allowed some leeway, unfortunately. He held him for the seventy-two hours that he was allowed, then I’m sure it was his superiors that made Masters release Caleb.” He grimaces. “I’ve heard things about Masters. Once he gets his teeth into something, it’s hard for him to let go.”
“I told him Caleb was innocent.”
He sighs. “You did. Doesn’t mean the truth can’t be twisted.”
“Like… my dad’s trial?”
Any warmth in his gaze falls away. “What makes you say that?”
I shift on the seat. He’s put me on trial without even blinking.
“What can we do about Matt?” Switching subjects is my finest moment. “Someone’s covering for him. Maybe if we could find out who—”
“Margo, stop.” Josh rubs at his eyes. The cold expression vanished as soon as I dropped the subject of my father. “I know this is hard. Someone took you, your memory might be jumbled. You were drugged—”
I tilt my head. “What?”
Drugged.
“The toxicology report came back. Angela told us,” he said. “She got the results back before they discharged you.”
I swallow that information. It makes sense that they wouldn’t let me leave without knowing what was in my blood. Still. I lean back and cross my arms over my chest. “What was I drugged with?”
“Margo…”
I’m beginning to think everyone in this damn town is keeping things from me.
“I deserve to know, Mr. Black,” I say. “It’s my body. Honestly, the doctors should’ve told me.”
He nods. “We’ll find out, okay?”
We sit and stare at each other for a moment.
I hate that I have so many questions—what my dad’s relationship was like with the Blacks, what the hell Matt is up to, my stolen hours. And even further back: what can’t I remember?