What Lies in the Woods(38)

The only one now.

When I drove up to Cass’s house, she wasn’t alone. There was a truck out front, a brand-new monstrosity that could have hauled an elephant trailer. I almost turned around when I saw it, but as I hovered outside the door opened and Cass’s mother stepped out, waving to me. I couldn’t very well leave now.

I walked up the drive, tumbling backward through time with every step. Meredith Green was a tiny woman, like a twist of wire. Age had distilled her down to her essence, hard and sharp, and what vanity she displayed with her dyed-blond hair and understated makeup had a utility of its own. She was the mayor’s wife, and she played the role with efficiency and unwavering dedication.

“Naomi. I’m glad you’re here,” she said. She took both my hands in hers. She’d always had warm hands, but now they had that papery feel of age. The first time she’d held my hands like this, a soft and inescapable touch, I’d still been in the hospital. The woman who’d sighed like a martyr every time Cass brought me over had called me sweetheart, and she had promised that she and her husband would look after me.

“You heard,” I said. Of course they had. Jim was the mayor. He’d have known as soon as the police did.

“It’s terrible. Marcus and Kimiko must be utterly destroyed. Poor things,” she said. She hadn’t let me go. I tugged my hands from hers, and she offered no resistance.

“I was hoping to talk to Cass,” I said.

“I’m afraid she’s not up for visitors,” Meredith said. “Maybe later.”

“I need to speak with her,” I said more firmly.

Her lips pressed into a thin line. “I will not let you drag my daughter into this horror again,” she said.

I blinked, taken aback. “I’ve never dragged Cass into anything,” I said.

“It took years for her to recover. Years. And God knows I love that little girl, but if it hadn’t been for you—”

“If I hadn’t almost been killed, you mean?” I asked.

“Let’s not pretend you were some innocent little girl. The things you all got up to in those woods were ungodly. They were perverse,” she said. “You invited darkness into your life and you brought Cassidy and Olivia into it, too. And now Olivia has paid the price.”

I could have told her that the Goddess Game—that most of the games—were Cass’s idea, but I knew better. Cassidy Green could do no wrong in the eyes of her parents, and if she did it was someone else’s fault.

“Mom? Who’s there?” Cass called. She appeared in the hall behind her mother, looking glassy-eyed and disheveled. Her foot was wrapped, and she was limping heavily. She spotted me. For a moment, the world hung on a point of perfect stillness—and then Cassidy gave a gulping cry and rushed forward at a stumbling run, past her mother, and flung her arms around me.

She buried her head against my shoulder and sobbed, and I held her, eyes shut, holding back my own tears.

“I can’t believe she’s gone,” Cass said through racking sobs.

“I know,” I whispered. It didn’t feel real. Part of me still hoped it wasn’t.

“Come inside, both of you,” Meredith said, her desire to keep me out slightly less powerful than her desire not to have us make a scene where the whole neighborhood could see us.

Cass grabbed my hand and pulled me through the foyer to the stairs, shuffling along on her bad foot. I cast one last look behind me at Meredith’s sour face.

Cass had to take the stairs one at a time, leaning heavily on the rail, and her lips were pale by the time she reached the top. She paused for breath for only a second before waving me forward into the master bedroom and shutting the door behind me.

She stood with her back to me a moment, collecting herself, and when she turned around she was shaky but calm, forcing her words out past tears she was barely holding back. “I’m sorry about Mom,” she said. “You know how she can be. She thinks she can micromanage this into being okay.”

“She always did have control issues,” I said. And Cass wasn’t the one who had to apologize.

Cass’s room was delicate and feminine, but not in an obvious way—done in soft blues and greens, with gentle lighting and an ornate full-length mirror. There were two pairs of slippers by the bed, and nail polish on the bedside table. I could imagine Amanda and her mother having a girls’ night in, dishing secrets.

Not real secrets. Just the fun kind.

I sat down on the end of the bed. Silence settled between us, suffocating. “I’m sorry I didn’t call,” I said. “I promised to call.”

“Don’t worry about that right now,” Cass said. “You must have been in shock.”

“Is your ankle…”

“Just a sprain. It’s doesn’t even hurt that much now. I shouldn’t have…” She looked away and rubbed tears from her cheek with the heel of her hand. “I should have gone with you. You shouldn’t have had to find her alone.”

“I wasn’t alone,” I said dully.

“Who…?”

“Ethan Schreiber was there,” I said.

“What? Why?” she asked, alarmed. “Did he have something to do with…?”

“No, he didn’t,” I said quickly. “He was looking for me, that was all.”