He’d called Dean after he’d dropped Abbi off at school, and we’d been texting about it ever since. His password popped into my head, and I quickly typed it in before I lost it again. Scott had asked him about the forum thread, and he’d said the same thing as Scott—don’t worry about it. Dean hadn’t been all that concerned about the phone call either. He’d told Scott that Kate had gotten up at night and walked around the house quite often, but that she’d never made a phone call. He’d also said that she’d seemed confused and disoriented about the time of day whenever anyone had tried to talk to her and was sure that was what had happened last night. Scott had agreed with his reasoning.
I would’ve, too, if she hadn’t lied about it when I’d asked her what she was doing, but I wasn’t going to fight with the two of them. I logged on to our wireless service provider. They provided our home phone service too. I scrolled to the current billing cycle and opened it up. It was too early for the calls in the last twelve hours to post, but there was one other phone call made from our home phone this month: two nights ago, 2:30 a.m., number unknown.
I scrolled backward through the months, but the last call from the home phone had been four months ago, when Abbi had called asking me to call her cell phone because she’d lost it somewhere in the house. I printed out the last four months so that I could show Scott when he got home. I’d never mistrusted his judgment before, but suddenly I found myself looking at Kate like she was a total stranger. Someone none of us knew who was living in our house. I tried to tell myself I was exaggerating, but I couldn’t shake the feeling. How could I?
She’d lied to my face.
KATE
THEN
“Kate, why don’t you ride with me?” Abner had asked when we’d stopped for gas.
He had phrased it like a question, but there had been no way to decline without making a scene, so I’d reluctantly climbed into the passenger seat of the van carrying our supplies. It was almost three days into our trip, and we still hadn’t spoken. Nobody was saying much of anything, though. I had expected a big scene once we got to the vans, but there hadn’t been a pause in our steps. We had just started throwing our stuff in the vans without any kind of discussion except where to store things. I was pressed up against the passenger-side door, as far away from him as I could get.
We’d been driving for over an hour without saying anything. The smell of smoke still filled my nose. We’d never get it out of our clothes, no matter how hard we scrubbed them. What we’d done was attached to us like a malignant tumor.
Three bodies.
That was how many people we were leaving behind. People had screamed at Abner about what he had done, but that hadn’t stopped them from digging their graves. They’d buried Sam’s and Bekah’s bodies next to each other. We’d forgone the ceremony this time. Abner had moved everyone quickly into setting the fires, yelling wildly that the ground we stood on was cursed.
“It won’t always feel like this,” Abner finally spoke, breaking into my thoughts.
“Nobody is ever going to forget.” Especially not me, I wanted to add, but bit my tongue. The sound of the gun going off hadn’t stopped ricocheting through me, making me cringe each time, the intensity never lessening. “And they shouldn’t.” I spat out the last part, unable to help myself.
“Good,” he said. “I don’t want anyone to forget. I want everything that happened here to be seared into our memories in a way that no amount of time can erase. We have utterly failed each other, God, and ourselves. I knew things were going to be difficult when God called us to separate ourselves, but I never imagined they would be this tragic.” His voice thickened with emotion. “This is a test, and it’s the hardest one we’ve had to endure on our journey. There will be many more until we reach the kingdom, but all of this fits perfectly with prophecy. The death in childbirth. The obstinate rebellion. The confusion. The warring among us. It’s all part of it. This is getting us prepared. You have to trust me.”
I turned away, gazing out the window at the rolling hills and wishing I could jump out. I would never trust him again. Willow’s and Bekah’s deaths might have been accidents, but he’d shot Sam in cold blood. I flinched as he put his hand on my knee.
“Do you trust me, Kate?”
I brushed his hand off. “That’s not what we’re talking about. It’s not about trust. It’s about what you did. How you—”
He interrupted me. “Just answer the question—do you trust me?”
“I don’t want to answer your question.”
“You trust me. I know you do, as much as you don’t want to trust me.” He put his hand back on my knee, pointedly. “You’re special. I’ve always told you that. Since the first week you spent in the cellar, when I was so disappointed because I thought you were leaving. Remember that? We’re alike in so many ways. I feel a connection with you that I don’t feel with the others, and it’s because our relationship is built on trust. You passed the highest loyalty test—you left your family.”
We rarely talked about those days. They were a different lifetime ago.
“That was because I believed in everything you were doing.”
“But don’t you see, Kate? None of that has changed. Nothing is any different today than it was three days ago.”
“How can you even say that? Two people are dead!”
“Bekah died from complications during childbirth. There was nothing that could have been done about that, and you know it.”
“And Sam?”
“God struck down those he loved all the time for disobedience. He wept each time in the same way I weep over Sam’s death, but remember that Sam is rejoicing with the Lord in eternity. And if he should decide to journey to earth once again, he will have another chance to learn what he didn’t learn this time around and expand his consciousness.” He quickly glanced at me before putting his eyes back on the road. “I’m not asking if you understand any of this or even agree with it. You don’t have to agree with me. Again, the question is, Do you trust me?”
I nodded not because it was true but because I wanted him to leave me alone.
“You know we speak truths out loud.”
“Yes, I trust you,” I said, crossing my arms on my chest.
“That’s my girl.”
I wasn’t his girl. Not anymore.
We gathered around the fire in our new space, except nothing about it felt new or fresh. Abner had led us down backcountry roads that wound their way through the mountains until we ended up at an abandoned RV campground. The concrete slabs were broken, weeds and stubble growing through the cracks. Every smooth surface was spray-painted with graffiti. The space was old and decrepit, cluttered with pieces of other people’s lives. We’d quickly set up camp and built a fire, collapsing around it exhausted and emotionally spent. I cringed when Abner got up to speak. I was hoping he’d stay quiet tonight.
“It’s unfortunate that Bekah’s body was unable to sustain the complications of labor. It was tragic and unbelievable. Our grief will last a long time. It will affect all of us differently, and I ask that we treat each other kindly, no matter how one’s grief chooses to express itself.”
Sol caught my attention from across the fire and frowned. He’d been furious when Abner came out of the birthing tent, and he’d come at him swinging. It took three guys to pull him off. I shrugged and quickly looked away before Abner saw me. I might be angry with him, but I wasn’t stupid.
Abner walked over to where Jane stood holding Bekah’s baby. We’d all been taking turns caring for him. He wasn’t adapting to the formula yet, spitting most of it up within minutes of finishing the bottle, but hopefully some of it was getting into his system before he rejected it. Abner scooped the baby from her arms and lifted him up, cupping his neck to support his head. “Bekah left us with the most precious gift. I was there when she died, and she begged me to take care of her baby.”
The hairs on the back of my neck bristled. That wasn’t exactly true. She’d been dea
d by the time he had laid a hand on her. She’d begged me and Margo to save her baby and let her die after she’d given up on going to the hospital. I forced myself to listen to what he had to say next.
“She entrusted her baby into our care and family. Despite all the ugliness going on and swirling about us right now, we are responsible for this baby.” He cuddled him against his chest. “How many times have I said we are all one?” He stopped talking, and silence reigned for a few seconds, but he didn’t expect an answer. It went without saying, since he’d said it hundreds of times over the years. It was part of our core, the thing that made us who we were. “I belong to you, and you belong to me. We are still bound by that agreement. We made it before the Lord and each other. Family, we are bound to care for this life.” I shifted uncomfortably in my seat. Margo sat up straighter. “Jesus said, ‘Let the little children come out to me.’ Children were given to us by God, and they belong to all of us. They are our responsibility. This child?” His voice rose. “He is our future. We must all work together to train him up in the way he should go. The responsibility was never meant to be for just one or two. It was always meant to be shared.” He paused a moment before continuing. “Who is with me?”
Margo surprised all of us by raising her hand first. Will followed quickly after her, and before long hands shot up all around the fire. Mine was there too. I didn’t want to get called out for not joining in.
Abner’s eyes filled with tears. “I want the rest of the children to come stand next to me,” he said. He walked around the fire and held out his hand to each of the children in our group. The children came out and joined him, never taking their eyes off their parents. There were six, but I barely paid them any attention. They were more like cats swirling around my feet as I went about my days.
Anne clung to Michael’s arm. She nudged him forward as if to say, “Do something.” They had three kids in the circle—Chad, Shane, and Ben. Their boys held hands in the middle of the group. Nervous laughter filled the night as he positioned them and stood behind them with his arms spread out like they were going to take a picture.
“These children will be the first soldiers in the army for the Lord’s kingdom. Where we have failed, they will succeed. In the areas where we have missed the mark, they will surpass it far greater than we could ask or imagine. Just like the word says. The Lord has sent us that same prophecy.” Sweat dripped down his face as the spirit moved him. “Family, we have failed, but we are not failures. We are beaten down but not forgotten. He has given us this gift. An opportunity to right all the wrongs through this new offspring. Do you feel his presence here tonight? Don’t try to pretend you don’t. I know you do. Let go of your anger. Let go of your rage, the bitterness. It will destroy you. Don’t hold on to it. These children will save the world. They will do what we couldn’t, but you have to let go. Family, do you hear me? Can you feel me?”
Within seconds, people were on their feet, roaring and clapping. It wasn’t long before someone broke into dance. Jane’s melodic voice rang out. Someone chanted behind it, their voice a desperate plea to God to forgive us and give us another chance.
But I couldn’t get up. I had forced myself to raise my hand, but I couldn’t make myself celebrate or pretend to be excited about his words. I wasn’t the only one who’d stayed seated. Were they asking the same question as me? We’d stood by and let people die—why did we think we deserved forgiveness or another chance?
THIRTY
MEREDITH
NOW
Neither of us had spoken since we’d stepped outside. It’d been almost a month since Kate had returned, and it was the first time Scott and I had been alone together outside the house. He’d asked if I wanted to go for a walk after dinner, and I had jumped at the opportunity. One of our favorite things to do was to fill our to-go mugs with coffee and stroll through the neighborhood. Our street was so pretty it’d been featured in Woman’s Day magazine twice. He’d taken my hand as we’d walked down the sidewalk, like he’d done so many times in the past, and the simple gesture almost brought me to tears.
“I missed us,” I said after a few more blocks had passed.
“Me too.” He squeezed my hand. “Are you feeling better about things than you were this morning?”
I tried to hide my annoyance that he’d brought it up so quickly. Obviously, we’d talk about things, but I’d been hoping to enjoy a brief break from it all. I was never worried about the forum post. That was all Abbi. My concern was the phone calls, and it’d only grown larger since the call from this morning had updated on the log around noon. The number was unknown, just like the other one. But I didn’t want to bring it up and spoil the moment.
“I am,” I lied.
“You’ve got to trust the investigators to do their job,” Scott said as we walked down the sidewalk.
“Like you trusted them?” I said without thinking. His hand went limp in mine. “I wasn’t trying to be mean. Honestly. But how many times over the years have I listened to you say how they mishandled Kate’s case?”
He picked up speed while we walked. “This is a completely different situation. Before they focused on me as a suspect and ignored other important leads. Everyone has been on top of things since the beginning this time.” His voice had an edge. “Believe me, we’re not in any kind of danger. Dean never would’ve pulled all the security back if we were.”
“And the fact that she lied to me about being on the phone?”
His body tightened next to mine. “Please don’t be mad, Meredith, but, honestly, it’s her business if she wants to be on the phone.”
I jerked my hand out of his. “Are you kidding me right now?”
He raised his palms up. “I mean, we’re not her parents. She can talk to people.”
“And lie to me about it? That’s acceptable?”
“No, of course not, but we’ve just got to keep giving her the safe space to get through whatever process she has to go through.”
“Is Dean going to tell Camille and the rest of the team about the phone calls?”
“I’m not sure.”
“You didn’t ask?” He didn’t have to answer for me to know he hadn’t. “Why didn’t you make sure that he was going to?” His ability to bury his head in the sand over this was infuriating. If she was lying about being on the phone, then what other things was she lying about?
The telltale sound of the guest door squeaked, and I sat up straight, instantly alert. I’d been up for the last three nights listening for Kate. This was the first I’d heard anything. I held my breath, as if hearing me breathe might signal that I was awake, and she’d chicken out and go back to her room. Old houses were unforgiving, no matter how sneaky you were, and there was almost no way to keep the second-to-the-last stair from making noise. As if on cue, I heard it, which was my signal to get out of bed.
I stood by our bedroom door for a few minutes, forcing myself to give her enough time to start making her call. Hopefully she would be listening harder to whoever was on the other end of the line than she would be for me. I opened the door and slid along the wall, where it was the quietest. I made my way to the top of the stairs and inched down them, holding my breath again. There was no mistaking the sound of hushed and frantic whispering coming from the kitchen. I skipped the squeaky step and walked into the kitchen to see Kate standing in the same spot she’d been before, with the phone up to her ear.
“I—” Kate froze midsentence, then quickly slammed the receiver back into its place. “Meredith, hi.”
“I knew you were talking to someone,” I said. There was no denying she was caught this time.
She shook her head and tried to feign innocence. “I wasn’t talking to anyone.”
“Are you kidding me?” I pointed to the phone. “I just walked in on you hanging it up.”
“I wasn’t. I don’t know what you thought you saw.” She tried to shuffle past me, but I blocked her path with my body, putting my hands on my hips.
“I know exactly what I saw.” She wasn’t getting off that easy.
She quickly reached out and pushed me aside before stepping around me. She turned to look at me over her shoulder as she walked away. “And even if I was talking on the phone, it would be none of your business.”
I hurried after her and grabbed her arm as she was about to put her foot on the step. “We’re not done with this conversation,” I said as she turned around. There was no mistaking the anger in her face. People only got angry when they were caught doing something wrong. I waved the phone records in front of her. “You see this? It’s a list of calls made from the phone in the kitchen during the last month, and guess what? There hadn’t been a call made in the middle of the night until you moved in with us.”
She jerked away from me. “Leave me alone. You don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Then why don’t you fill me in?” Everyone tiptoed around her, but maybe it was time to see what she’d do if she was pushed a little bit.
“Please.” She lowered her voice. “You’re going to wake up Shiloh.”
“She’ll go back to sleep.”
“Why are you doing this?” she asked. Her eyes filled with tears.
I refused to be moved by them, just like I’d done when my boys were toddlers and throwing fits. “Tell me what’s going on.”
She opened her mouth to speak, then quickly shut it like she’d changed her mind. “I don’t have to tell you anything.” She put her head down and jerked her arm away, moving past me. “Please leave me alone.” She ran up the last few steps and down the hallway into her bedroom, shutting the door tightly behind her.
I raced behind her and into our bedroom, almost smacking into Scott as he knelt on the floor, digging through the laundry basket for something clean to wear. “What the heck is going on out there?” he asked as he pulled a sweatshirt over his head.
When She Returned Page 19