Today's Promises (Promises #2)(9)

“A horrible one,” I scoff.

Jaynie’s face pales. “We aren’t going to have to testify or anything, right?”

That’s Jaynie’s big fear.

Every terrible thing we endured is still so fresh and raw for all of us, but especially for Jaynie. She suffered the worst at the hands of our captors, and that’s really what they were. We were all trapped up there at the Lowry house. I could talk if I needed to, about all the shit we went through, but I know for a fact Jaynie isn’t anywhere near that point yet.

Testifying isn’t a worry, though, at least not for today.

We realize this when Mandy explains: “There’s a detective on the case, but he’s not looking into what happened during our time at the Lowry house. Not that it wasn’t awful, what we went through, but it seems”—she lowers her voice another notch—“something much worse may have occurred before any of us ever lived there.”

“Shit, Mandy.” I take a step back. “Like what?”

“Yeah, what could be worse than what we went through?” Jaynie chimes in.

Mandy wraps her arms around herself, like she’s now chilled by more than the cool night air. I understand. I’m feeling kind of icy myself.

“A girl went missing,” Mandy says. “A girl Mrs. Lowry was fostering about seven years ago.”

“So back when she first started fostering, then,” I remark.

“Yeah, back then.” Mandy nods. “I guess state records had this girl listed as having been placed elsewhere, following the days she spent at the Lowry house. Apparently, though, that was some kind of mix-up.”

I muse, “I guess they’re going through everything now with a fine-toothed comb.”

“Yeah, only because Allison and Mrs. Lowry were convicted of felonies,” Jaynie interjects, shaking her head. “You know, those crimes that involved money people lost. Not anything to do with how kids, like us, were physically hurt and mistreated. I swear,” she practically spits out. “It’s always about the goddamn money, isn’t it?”

“Maybe not this time,” Mandy says, sending a sad, small smile Jaynie’s way. “The girl who used to live at the Lowrys, the one involved in the mix-up, they’re really looking into this pretty intensely. Apparently, her name was similar to someone else’s in the system. And that girl is the one the state was keeping track of.”

“That’s one hell of a mix-up,” I snort, disgusted at the total ineptitude of the state system.

“I know, right?” Mandy shakes her head. “Anyway, the authorities think this girl may have never left the Lowrys.”

I watch Jaynie as she swallows hard.

“How old was she?” I ask, my voice cracking at the implications of what Mandy is telling us.

Bowing her head, she says, “Sixteen.”

“Maybe she ran away?” I offer, grasping at any explanation so Jaynie doesn’t have to hear this. Her nightmares are horrid enough.

But Mandy, her eyes moving from me to Jaynie, then back to me, crushes that hope when she says, “Mmm, I don’t think so, Flynn. The last place this unaccounted-for girl was ever seen was at Mrs. Lowry’s house.”

“What are you saying?” Jaynie says, at last.

Her voice is more strained than I’ve ever heard it before. So I reach for her hand, to offer any comfort I can.

Jaynie is trembling when her hand slips into mine.

And frankly, I start to shake as well, especially when Mandy says, “Someone up on that property, either Mrs. Lowry or Allison, had to have killed that poor girl. And then they probably hid the body.”





Jaynie



“Shit, Flynn, this is bad. Really bad.”

Those are the first words out of my mouth when we settle into Bill’s car.

Flynn buckles his seat belt and closes his eyes. I’m sure he’s imagining some poor girl, a girl like me, meeting her untimely end at the hands of Mrs. Lowry, or that bitch, Allison.

Shuddering, he says, “God, I hope it’s not true.”

I let out a scoff of disbelief. “Oh, I’m sure it’s true. Think about it. Think how close we came to being finished off up there.” I make a sound of disgust. “We’re not talking about kind benefactors here.”

“True.” Flynn scrubs his hand down his face. “I’m sure something bad did happen to that girl.”

Thinking of how Allison treated us so much worse than her mother did, I say, “I bet Allison did it. She’s vicious and violent.”

I know firsthand the extent of Allison’s rage.

Flynn agrees with me, but then, when he sees how worked up I’m becoming, he says, “Let’s talk about something else on the ride home.”

“Yeah, that works for me.”

On the drive back to Lawrence, I try with all my heart to push all thoughts of Allison and her evildoings to the back of my mind. And I do pretty well, until that night when a nightmare wakes me up.

After dreaming of Allison kicking me in the abdomen, and thusly killing the child who was growing within me, Flynn rocks me back to sleep with words of comfort. His own tears intermingle with mine, and we press our cheeks together and cry for what could have been.

“It’s over, though, Jaynie,” he tells me. “She can never hurt you that bad ever again.”