The Chain(49)

“It’s really me, Mom. I’m hungry. I’m going to get a doughnut. Maybe a couple of them. I’m hanging up to get a doughnut, Mom,” Kylie says.

“Don’t hang up! I’ll be there in a minute,” Rachel says but Kylie is gone again.

I-95 is only a few minutes away and Rachel tears up it at eighty miles an hour, pretty much the Volvo’s maximum velocity.

Google Maps takes her to the 101 turnoff and there right in front of her is the Sunoco station.

Kylie is sitting in the window seat of the Dunkin’ Donuts by herself. Her brown hair, her freckly face, the little silver headband. It’s really her!

She looks so small and frail under the harsh lights.

“Kylie!” Rachel screams. She slides the Volvo into a parking spot, opens the door, and runs in.

They hug each other and burst into tears.

Kylie is crying. Rachel is crying.

It’s real.

It’s actually real.

Her little girl back again. The I Ching promised a yellow arrow when it would all be over.

There’s no yellow arrow anywhere, but Kylie is back with her in the world.

Thank you, God. Thank you, God. Thank you.

“Oh, Mommy, I thought I was never going to see you again,” Kylie says.

Rachel can’t believe it. She isn’t sure the world is big enough to contain the relief and gladness she feels. “I knew I’d see you again! I knew I’d get you back,” Rachel replies and holds her close. So close. Her little girl smells like her little girl. She’s trembling and cold. She must be hungry and so, so scared.

The tears flow.

Rivers of relief and happiness.

A weird, unbalanced, off-kilter kind of joy.

“Are you hungry?” Rachel asks.

“No. I ate a doughnut and the people fed me while I was there.”

“What did they feed you?”

“Normal stuff. Cereal. Graham crackers.”

“Come on, let’s get out of here. I’ll take you home. Uncle Pete’s here.”

“Uncle Pete?”

“Yeah, he’s been helping me out.”

“You didn’t tell Dad?”

“No.”

“’Cause of Tammy?”

Rachel nods.

“They told me that if I said anything, we could all be in danger,” Kylie says.

“That’s what they told me. Come on, let me take you home.”

“I need to go to the bathroom,” Kylie says.

“I’ll go with you.”

“No, Mom, no. I’ll be OK.”

“I’m not going to let you out of my sight.”

“Mom, I’m not having you go into the bathroom with me. I’ll be one minute.”

Rachel walks her to the Dunkin’ Donuts bathroom and stands outside the door. It’s one of those unisex, single-person toilets so there’s no way there’s someone in there who’s going to drag Kylie out a window or anything, but still, Rachel hates to lose visual contact with her for even a few seconds.

The middle-aged cashier catches her eye.

“Is she yours?” the woman asks.

“Yes.”

“I was just gonna call the cops. I thought she was a runaway.”

Rachel smiles and texts Pete that Kylie is safe.

“You gotta keep an eye on them when they start hitting their teens,” the cashier says. “It’s a difficult age. I should know. Four daughters.”

“This one is my whole world,” Rachel replies.

The woman nods. “You can’t let them out of your sight.”

“You can say that again.”

Kylie comes out of the bathroom and Rachel hugs her. They leave the gas station hand in hand.

“I want to have a long, hot shower when I get home,” Kylie says as they get in the car.

“Of course. Anything you want.”

“I feel dirty.”

“Are you OK? Did they touch you? Hurt you?”

“No…yes. The man yesterday. What day is it?”

“Sunday morning, I think.”

“I tried to escape and he slapped me,” Kylie says matter-of-factly.

“Oh my God. He hit you?” Rachel asks.

“Yes. And the funny thing was, he wasn’t the bad one. She was the bad one. She was so scary,” Kylie says and starts crying again.

Rachel hugs her tightly.

“Come on, let’s go, I want to go home. I want to see my cat and Uncle Pete,” Kylie says.

Rachel starts the car and turns on the lights and drives south.

“There’s something else, Mom,” Kylie says.

“What?” Rachel asks, expecting the worst.

“I’m not really sure but I think maybe they shot a cop. We were pulled over by a state trooper and I think they shot him.”

Rachel nods. “I think there were reports of a New Hampshire state trooper being shot on Thursday morning.”

Kylie gasps. “Did he die?”

“I’m not sure,” Rachel lies.

“We have to go to the police,” Kylie says.

“No! It’s too dangerous. They’ll kill us all. They’ll hunt us down and get us. You, me, Pete, your father, all of us. We can’t say or do anything, Kylie.”