Esther was now officially a Whitaker, but she still hated daffodils. Mary had told her that Whitaker would be their surname because they needed one and they’d grown used to it. Mary told her that they’d never been registered at birth and they had to complete lots of paperwork to get a real passport this time. But now Fran had brought them to England. She was supposed to start school soon. Mary had a job in a café on the beach near their house. She wore a frilly apron and smiled at customers. When she wasn’t working, she grew her roses or made clothes to sell.
Esther now understood why Mary had lied to her in the hospital after she’d fallen down in the woods. Mary had tearfully confessed that she’d panicked because she didn’t want Esther to know that Adrian—Father Adam—was her grandfather. Esther understood it, but she still didn’t like it. She didn’t like adults much at all. According to Fran, Mary and her therapist, Father James lied and hurt everyone in the family. So, did that mean all grown-ups lied? Did that mean she would have to lie when she grew-up? There was part of the story she hadn’t told anyone, and that was a kind of lie, wasn’t it?
There was one aspect of her new life that she did enjoy. Cassie was a sweet dog. She liked taking her out for a walk in the cool evenings. Also, the weather was better here, she had to admit that. But Esther had bad dreams now. The stomach ache was gone, but she woke up at night remembering what Paul had done in the shelter. And what she’d done to him…
She remembered how she’d tried to take the box away from Paul and he’d hit her. She got scared and crawled into the corner, wrapping her arms around her knees. Stinky lay there not moving for a while, some blood coming out of his nose. Paul opened the box and took out several sachets of a powder. He went over to the basin, filled up a jug of water, opened the sachets and poured them in.
“Do we have to drink it?” Grace had asked. “I’m scared now.”
Paul divided up the drink between all the cups they had. He was working so fast that he spilled some of it. “We have to drink it all or it won’t work.”
Esther sat there transfixed. She wasn’t as scared at this point, but she did feel frozen to the spot. Her fingernails dug into the skin on her knees.
Paul passed the cups around, starting with David, making his way to Grace. He took the last one for himself. Esther opened her mouth, but nothing more than a squeak came out. Paul turned to her as though remembering she was there.
“I won’t force you to drink it,” he said. “But there’s some left.”
Esther shook her head.
David drank his first. Grace was crying. Some of them started to cough. Paul pushed Delilah’s hand until she drank it all. Now Esther slowly got to her feet. She watched the children flop onto the mattresses, their bodies moving like dropped dolls. She’d almost done this to them herself. She stared in horror as they writhed and choked. Stinky began to stir.
When his eyes opened, he sat up and shouted. “Someone do something!”
“It’s too late,” Esther said. “They’ve taken the poison.”
Then her gaze fell back on Paul. He was crying now, too. “Father said it wouldn’t hurt.” He opened and closed his mouth like a fish.
Esther realised he wasn’t going to take the poison himself and pure rage surged through her. She grabbed him by his shirt and forced him down on the mattress. Stinky jumped on him immediately, pinning him down. Esther grabbed the water jug, still just under a quarter full. Paul shook his head and closed his mouth, but she grabbed hold of his nose and held it until it forced him to open his lips and breathe. And then she poured the fluid into his mouth. Paul coughed and spluttered but she kept pouring until she heard him gulping it down. Gulp, glug, gulp, glug. Sometimes she hears that sound as though it’s coming through her bedroom door. She can’t stand it when Fran opens a bottle of wine and pours herself a glass. But she won’t tell anyone. Not Mary, not Fran, not the woman she sees once a week to talk through what happened at the ranch. No, she’ll never tell anyone what she did, and she hopes she never sees Stinky—or Jayden as she’s learned he’s called—ever again.
At night, she still thinks about those moments, of her pouring the poison into Paul’s mouth knowing what it would do, believing that it would kill him. It hadn’t, but she’d thought it would. She wonders what else she’s capable of doing now. She has so much anger inside her. It simmers and it waits, and it builds like the wildfire Father James ignited that night.
The End
Thank you for reading LITTLE ONE. If you found this book to be a suspenseful read, you might like to join my mailing list to keep up to date with my releases. And if you are looking for another gripping thriller, then you might enjoy SILENT CHILD.
About the Author
Sarah A. Denzil is a British suspense writer from Derbyshire. Her books include SILENT CHILD, which has topped Kindle charts in the UK, US, and Australia. SAVING APRIL and THE BROKEN ONES are both top thirty bestsellers in the US and UK Amazon charts.
Combined, her self-published and published books, along with audiobooks and foreign translations, have sold over one million copies worldwide.
Sarah lives in Yorkshire with her husband, enjoying the scenic countryside and rather unpredictable weather. She loves to write moody, psychological books with plenty of twists and turns.
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Writing as Sarah Dalton - http://www.sarahdaltonbooks.com/
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