For several minutes he didn’t say a thing. He appeared deeply conflicted. When he looked up at her, she saw that there wasn’t only uncertainty in his gaze, but fear. “I found an old trunk in the basement,” he said.
“A trunk?” she asked, confused.
He nodded. “It was behind a portion of wall in one of the smaller storage areas. I was . . . looking for other hidden panels like the ones that lead to the crawl spaces and I found it.”
“Okay,” she said, confused.
He swallowed and then he told her about what he’d found inside it. He told her the story of Taluta and Narcisa and the testimonies they’d left in a hidden trunk behind a secret wall.
“Holy God,” she breathed. “Ms. Wykes . . . she says a demon native roams these woods.”
He paused, seeming to consider what he was about to say. “I’ve heard the drums,” he whispered, shaking his head. “I don’t know what it is, but I’ve seen the shadow of . . . something.” His eyes bored into her. “And if he seeks vengeance, he has a right to it.”
Kandace shivered, her eyes moving to the dark forest beyond.
“I know what you’re talking about,” he said, grabbing her attention once again. “The abuse you mentioned. I know what they do at Lilith House.” He looked down again, embarrassment filling his handsome young face. “They tell us it’s God’s will and that fallen ones must be redeemed.”
Redeemed? Was that what they called rape and torture these days?
“But . . .” he said, shaking his head. “I read Taluta’s story, and Narcisa’s and . . . we read the Bible, God’s word . . .” His brow dipped, his frown deepening as he rubbed at his temple. “The things written in the Bible don’t match up with what they tell us God desires. It’s like . . . they got it all wrong. It’s like, they don’t understand.”
Oh, Dreamboat.
“They did,” she whispered. “They did get it all wrong.” And so had she. She’d gotten it all wrong too. Her baby kicked again and she adjusted her body to hide the movement of her midsection. She’d thought she was strong, brave, invincible, but she’d been no such thing. Recently, as she’d lain in bed at night, she tried to figure out the exact moment when everything went wrong. The hour that, if she’d made a different choice, she wouldn’t have ended up where she was. And just the night before, she had. It was her mother’s sixth wedding day, when the judge had become her stepfather. She’d been upset, angry, and so she’d decided to go to a party with a guy she knew was bad news in every sense of the phrase. She hadn’t cared. That day, she relished the idea of letting him bring her down in whatever way he might. Scarlett had called her as she was heading out the door—she’d known it was her mother’s wedding day and she’d called to see how Kandace was doing. Whatever she’d heard in her voice, whatever she’d sensed about Kandace’s mood, she’d asked her to come over and visit.
But visiting Scarlett was too safe and offered no promise of self-destruction. And so, she’d said no. She’d said no, and that night she’d tried cocaine for the first time, which led to theft and rampant promiscuity and other behaviors she didn’t want to think about at the moment. That was the night she’d veered crazily off course.
That was the hour it all went wrong.
But if she’d said yes to Scarlett . . . if she’d gone to her instead of to that party . . . she would have left better, not worse. Because Scarlett had loved her. Not because she was family. Not because she had to. No, she’d loved her as a friend, without strings or obligation. She’d found her worthy. She’d hoped Kandace would see in herself what Scarlett had seen in her.
When she escaped, she was going to tell Scarlett that her words had carried her through so much. She was going to try to be the person Scarlett believed she could be. In the meantime, Kandace was going to hold on to that moment like a promise.
They had both been quiet for the last few minutes, each lost in his and her own thoughts. When Kandace looked up at him, she smiled. In some inexplicable way, he reminded her of Scarlett. They both had the same deeply sensitive heart, the same steady presence, the same overt trustworthiness. “I’ve got this friend, Dreamboat, and she’s just your age. If I can arrange it, I’m going to make sure you meet. I think you’d get along. She’s brave like you. I act brave, but it’s a show. You and this friend of mine? You’re the real deal.”
He offered her a small, confused smile, but it quickly dwindled. “You’re brave too, Kandace. What do you need me to do to help you escape?”
CHAPTER FORTY-TWO
Scarlett pulled up in front of Millie’s house, getting out of the car and beginning to walk toward the front door when she spotted the woman pushing a stroller toward her on the opposite side of the sidewalk. The woman smiled and Scarlett looked closer, realizing that the stroller she was pushing was for a special needs child, and the boy sitting in it—who looked to be a pre-teen—was clearly disabled.
“If you’re going to visit Vicky Schmidt, she won’t be home. She attends a church meeting every Thursday at five. We usually take our walk a little earlier and we see her leaving.” She smiled, ruffling the boy’s hair. He craned his neck, his mouth opening as he gazed at his mother with clear adoration.
“Oh, thank you,” Scarlett said, changing direction and walking toward her. “Do you, by chance, live in the blue house a few blocks over?”
“Yes. Do I know you?”
“No. I’m Scarlett Lattimore. We, um, moved to town very recently. Millie babysits my daughter, Haddie, and she mentioned you.”
“Welcome to town. I’m Dotty and this is Roger.”
Scarlett smiled down at the boy whose arms were folded inward, head slanted, tongue protruding through the same open-mouthed smile. He was obviously non-verbal. “Hi, Roger.” When she looked at his mother, she said, “I just wanted to say I’m sorry in person. Millie told me Haddie made Roger scream. I don’t know what came over my daughter that would cause her to upset him like that. She’s usually kind and very accepting—”
“Oh, Ms. Lattimore.” Dotty laughed, shaking her head. “I don’t think Millie understood. Haddie didn’t upset Roger.” She ran a hand over her son’s brown hair again. “He does that when he’s excited or . . . overcome with happiness.” Her smile widened. “It’s loud, and can be disconcerting if you don’t know him well, but it’s joyful. Haddie didn’t hurt him. Far from it. Whatever your daughter said made him overwhelmingly happy.”
Scarlett blinked in stunned wonder, her spirit lifting to hear what this mother was telling her. “Oh, I see.” She let out a breath, putting her hand over her heart. “I can’t tell you how relieved that makes me feel.” Oh, Haddie, I’m sorry I doubted you. Again.
Dotty gave her another grin. “I’d like to know what it was Haddie said so we can repeat it. Daily. He so rarely has a reaction like that. It was precious to me.” She gazed down at her child. “Roger is a handful some days, but he’s a gift.” She met Scarlett’s eyes. “He was taken, you know, a few days after his birth.” She swallowed, obviously reliving the memory.