When they’d driven far enough away from Willowbrook to return to civilization, to houses and businesses and traffic lights, to people on the shoveled sidewalks and cars on the plowed streets, to miniature lights twinkling on manicured trees and landscaped bushes, tears filled her eyes a second time. She’d thought she’d never see those things again.
Before going to Willowbrook, she’d hated it when she and her friends sometimes had no money for a cab and they had to walk to wherever they were going. But thinking about it now, she remembered how they’d laugh and talk about boys and parties, the briny ocean breeze rippling through their hair. She would never walk down a sidewalk again without giving thanks that she was free to do it. Then again, how could she—or anyone else—go on with their lives, working and getting married and playing and shopping, with the horror of Willowbrook only a few miles away? She watched the pedestrians pass by the car window: the man with the white dog on a pink leash; the young couple holding hands and laughing, their breath pluming out in the cold air; the gray-haired lady carrying a mesh bag full of oranges. Didn’t they know people were being abused in that place? Didn’t they know people were dying there every day? Didn’t they care?
Just then, a bald man hurried past the gray-haired woman, bumping into her shoulder and nearly knocking her over. The woman stopped and found her footing, but the man kept going without even stopping to see if she was okay.
Sage drew in a sharp breath and slumped down in the seat, her heart suddenly ricocheting in her chest. The bald man looked like Wayne. What if he knew she’d been released from Willowbrook? What if he was out to get her? Coming for her, to cut her throat and shut her up? She craned her neck and peered at the man as they drove past, then sat back again and let out a sigh of relief. It wasn’t him. Her imagination had run away with her.
When Officer Minor turned a corner and stopped at a red light, a van pulled up beside them and she was sure it was Wayne in the driver’s seat, staring back at her with menacing, hostile eyes. She closed her eyes until the car started moving again, then looked up and down the sidewalk and road, eyeing the other pedestrians and drivers, scanning them one by one. He could be tailing her, a sharp knife in his pocket, waiting to make his move. It only made sense that he would want her dead. She had told everyone about the secret room and Norma, and that she thought he had killed Rosemary—and Evie too. It only made sense that he would want her to pay.
By the time Officer Minor stopped in front of her apartment building, she was a bundle of nerves. Wayne was everywhere. He was the man in the baseball cap and leather jacket, the man walking into the liquor store, the man knocking on the neighbor’s door. Paranoia had taken hold of her, but she couldn’t help it. She opened the car door, slid off the seat, and stood on trembling legs. Officer Minor got out too.
“Detective Nolan wants me to walk you up,” he said.
She nodded, relieved she didn’t have to ask, then looked up and down the street. Alan’s truck was nowhere to be seen, unless he’d found a spot in the crowded parking lot behind the apartment buildings, which seemed unlikely. She glanced at the kitchen window in their apartment. The curtains were drawn and the window was dark, which meant he was gone. Because despite his habit of leaving the TV on all night, he was a stickler about shutting off lights. She breathed a sigh of relief.
If she was really lucky, he had stopped for drinks after work and wouldn’t come home until late. Right now it was early enough that she didn’t think he’d be passed out yet; if he was, the deadbolt and chain would be secured and she wouldn’t be able to get in. Then she remembered that her apartment key was in her stolen purse.
“Shit,” she said.
“Is there a problem?” Officer Minor said.
“I don’t have a key and my stepfather is still at work. I’ll have to ask the super if he can unlock the door.”
As if on cue, a window curtain moved to one side in the superintendent’s apartment, then fell back into place. At least she wouldn’t have to knock on his door. Once he saw the police car, he’d meet them in the lobby, like he had done that time the cops brought her home after Dawn broke her ankle peeing in the sink at a dive bar downtown. Sage had lied to him then, saying there had been a fight at the bowling alley and the cops brought her home just to make sure she was all right. Luckily, he’d believed her and never mentioned the incident to Alan.
As predicted, the super was waiting in the lobby, wearing sweatpants, a sleeveless T-shirt, and ratty slippers. When he saw Sage’s filthy coat and matted hair, his mouth fell open.
“What the hell happened to you?” he said.
“Alan can tell you later,” she said. “Can you let me into my apartment? I lost my key.”
“You in some kind of trouble? Alan said you been visiting his sister up in Long Island for a while. Said you two weren’t gettin’ along too well.”
Of course he did. And if anyone had called or stopped by asking for her, he’d probably told them the same thing. But Heather and Dawn should have known he was lying. They should have known she’d gone to Willowbrook to look for Rosemary—unless they hadn’t called at all. Unless they’d just gone on with their lives.
“You can’t believe everything Alan tells you,” she said. “He doesn’t even have a sister.” And then, filled with a sudden sense of recklessness, she added, “I was kidnapped.”
The super gaped at Officer Minor, eyes bulging. “That true?”
“I’m only escorting her home,” he said. “I don’t know the details of the incident.”
“Can you just let me into the apartment?” she said.
“Alan working today?” the super said. “I ain’t seen him in a few days.”
“Must be,” she said. “Unless he’s not back from his fishing trip yet.” Or he’s shacking up with some floozy.
“Is that where he went?”
She frowned. “I thought . . . You told a friend of mine he went ice fishing with Larry.”
He shrugged again. “I ain’t talked to nobody about nothing. One thing about me is I mind my own business.”
“Uh-huh,” she said, sarcasm in her voice. It was hard to tell if he had forgotten about talking to Eddie, or if he was playing dumb in front of Officer Minor. Considering his past and the shady-looking friends he often had over, she suspected the latter.
“Are you sure you didn’t tell someone he went on a fishing trip?” she said. “A young guy with dark hair? I’m sure he said you were the one who told him.”
“Oh, wait,” the super said. “Yeah, I remember him now. Good-lookin’ kid. But that was a while ago. He and Larry came back, but I didn’t see no fish.” He laughed. “Maybe they went fishing for something besides perch and pike.”
“Can you just unlock my door please?” she said.
“Oh, sure. Hang on.” He disappeared inside his apartment.
She glanced at Officer Minor. “Sorry about this.”
“It’s no problem.”
Finally, the super came out and gave her a key. “I need it back,” he said. “So find yours by tomorrow morning.”
She thought about telling him it had been stolen, but it was too much to explain. And it didn’t matter right now anyway. “I’ll try,” she said, turning toward the stairs that led up to the fourth floor.