It's One of Us(77)

She’s known, empirically, this could happen. But she thought that maybe, maybe, he had himself in check.

Too much to ask.

Get them out of here.

“Looks like you have work to do,” Darby says, gesturing toward the iPad, and the cops fixate on her briefly, then nod in unison, standing and straightening and heading for the door, anxious and intent.

The woman stops in the doorway. “Please be in touch if Peyton reaches out, Ms. Flynn. This will all go easier if he cooperates with our investigation.”

Darby nods, still hollow. She closes the door behind them and leans against it. When she hears their car pull away, she hurries to the kitchen.

“Scarlett. Have you heard from him?”

“No, Mom. But you need to see this.” She flips her phone around. “I’m going to have to delete my account.”

Darby scrolls through the comments, reads the accusations, the unease she’d been feeling earlier swamping into full-on terror. Here it is, in black and white. More confirmation of her worst thoughts. He hasn’t been controlling himself. The darkness wasn’t back. It had never left.

“This is all my fault,” Darby says softly. “And I don’t know how to fix it.”

“How could this be your fault?” Scarlett is incensed, immediately, and turns on Darby. “This is Peyton’s doing. Peyton is responsible. Not you. You’re the best mom anyone could ask for.”

Darby hugs her daughter tightly, knowing the words are lies.

She can’t escape the thought she’s been having since the sketch appeared on the television.

Was Peyton’s darkness something she did?

She’s never blamed herself for her son’s problems, but now? Now, she’s wondering how much of his insanity must have been passed along by this man, this stranger, who has ties to the missing and the dead three times over, and how much is on her? Because to think she alone created a child who murders, who rapes, who hunts, is too monstrous for her to fathom.

She’d love to blame it all on Park Bender. That’s the easy way out.

But what if it was her? What if it’s something inside her own DNA, something dark and unforgiving? Something wrong. She’d been forced to leave Peyton in daycare, with strangers, as she went through extra schooling certifications, and of course, years on the night shift. If she’d been there to read him a story as he fell asleep every night, would that have changed things?

And Scarlett. Scarlett’s birth had triggered the first episodes of darkness. It’s not like Darby could blame Scarlett, of course not. But again, was it Darby’s fault for not being happy with just a single child, for having the joy of a son?

You know it wouldn’t have. You know his darkness is not your fault. Nor his. This is something organic that happens. And not everyone who has this issue falls off the deep end, goes into the baser instincts. Unless Bender is some sort of monster, and he’s passed along his maniacal genes.

“What are you thinking about, Mom?”

Darby drags her attention to Scarlett. Her daughter is watching her, of course she is. She needs direction. She needs guidance. She needs to be told that she is safe, that she is loved.

And Darby’s just been standing here in the middle of the living room staring into space as her conscience wrestles with itself.

“What?”

“You’re lost in thought.”

“Just trying to wrap my head around all of this, sweetie.”

Darby’s phone rings, and they both jolt, nearly hitting heads in their haste to see the caller ID. It is Scarlett’s school. After what she’s just seen online, Darby is not surprised.

“Ms. Flynn? This is Dean Barker. Principal Rutger and I have just come from a conversation with the board, and we think it might be best if you keep Scarlett home for the rest of the week.”

Rage flares, incandescent inside her. “And why is that?”

“Well, Ms. Flynn, with Peyton...this is an awful situation. I’m sure you’ve seen the social media feeds. We are doing everything we can to make sure these aren’t just malicious rumors, but it’s not like we can ask the girls to stop posting. If they’ve experienced these...atrocities, they need a safe space to let out their stories. I’m afraid it’s out of our hands. Now that the police are here talking with the students, it’s become too much of a distraction. Let’s just excuse Scarlett from classes for the rest of the week, and we can reassess on Sunday night. All right?”

No. Not all right.

“Don’t you dare even think you can keep my daughter from school. She has every right to be there. Every right to be treated with dignity and respect. How dare you—”

Scarlett wrestles the phone away and pushes Darby lightly toward the kitchen. She raises the phone to her ear.

“Dean Barker? Keep your damn school. I don’t want to come back.”

She ends the call, smiles weakly at her mother, who feels herself turning various shades of red.

“What have you done? Do you know what it takes for you to go to that place? I’ve been killing myself—”

“That ‘place,’ as you call it, is full of snotty bitches, and I’m bored in my classes. I’m better off getting a GED and doing a year at JuCo, then transferring to a four-year school somewhere. It’s not the right environment for me, and now? My God, Mom. Peyton has been harassing the girls there for years. I can’t go back even if I wanted to.”