The Lucky Ones(40)

“A dead kid? What happened to her?”

“It’s pretty horrible,” Deacon said, wincing. “She and Roland were playing on the beach and Roland buried her in sand. The sand sort of caved in, and she was smothered to death.”

Allison was speechless.

“Unfortunately, it happens,” Deacon went on. “About once a summer we hear a story about some kid dying or nearly dying on the beach,” Deacon continued. “Sand shifts and gaps open up and you sink down. Dad says Roland’s always blamed himself. He told me to put the picture back where I found it and pretend I hadn’t seen it, for Roland’s sake. So I did.”

A little girl, dying under Roland’s care. It all sounded so terrifyingly familiar. She could still feel the wild pounding of Roland’s heart against her chest as he held her and carried her out of the water.

“I just... I had no idea,” Allison finally said.

“Anyway, Dad doesn’t think Roland should blame himself for what happened to Rachel. And he doesn’t think Roland should punish himself, either.”

“And that’s what your dad thinks the monastery is?”

“He might be right,” Deacon said. “You know what they call the little rooms monks sleep in? Cells.”

“God, poor Roland,” Allison said.

“He buys his Catholic guilt in bulk at Costco,” Deacon said.

“You know, this actually makes sense,” Allison said, pointing at him. The pieces were slowly clicking into place. “When your dad came and got me out of the group home they’d put me in, the lady who ran the place, Miss Whitney, she said something about me looking like someone. And the first time I met Roland, Dr. Capello watched us really close like he was... I don’t know. Like he was watching to make sure Roland was going to be okay with me.”

“Dad loves fixing broken kids,” Deacon said. “When I came here, I was really upset because—” Deacon paused “—because of my cat back home.”

“What about your cat?”

“He was dead,” Deacon said, his voice flat. “So Dad got me Brien. Dad would do anything for us. Replace a dead cat...”

“Replace a dead baby sister?” Allison said, shivering despite the stuffy heat of the attic.

“A very Dad thing to do,” Deacon said. “Fixing broken kids is what he does. Or tries to do. Anyway, Dad’s going to be thrilled when he finds out you and Roland hit it off.”

“Don’t get him excited,” Allison said. “I’m leaving soon.”

“Sure you are,” Deacon said. “Dad’s gonna pull out all the stops to get you to stay. If it means getting Roland out of his prison cell, he’ll try anything.”

“Do you want me to stay?” she asked. If he had lied to her, if he knew something about her fall or the phone call, then surely he wouldn’t want her to stick around. She searched his face, looking for guilt, but didn’t see any.

“Stay?” Deacon said. “I wish you’d never left.” He seemed sincere, truly sincere, for the first time since he showed up on the deck.

“I should have come back sooner,” she said. “Now it feels too late, you know?”

“Never too late. Shit,” Deacon said, jumping to his feet.

“What?” Allison looked around in confusion. Gravel crunched. A car door slammed in the distance.

“We’re not supposed to be up here,” Deacon said, grinning like a little boy with his hand caught in the cookie jar. “Dad moved his medical files up here so technically it’s off-limits. At least, we pretend it’s off-limits until the three of us want to smoke up here.”

“Smoke?”

“Not cigarettes,” he said, and winked at her.

Allison followed Deacon down the stairs and she watched him put the keys back into his father’s desk drawer, the second from the bottom. When she saw the photographs on the desk again, she remembered something.

“Hey, who was Antonio?”

“Who?” Deacon asked.

“I saw his picture,” she explained. “When I was looking at all the pics of us. Antonio Russo? Does that name ring a bell? He was nine, lived here before me.”

“Oh, yeah,” Deacon said, his brow furrowed. “Antonio. Tony, I think he went by. I think he stayed a week. Had lots of behavior problems so he had to get a new placement. Come on. I can’t wait to see Dad’s face when he sees you.”

Deacon’s enthusiasm seemed genuine but so had his confusion when she’d mentioned Antonio Russo’s name. Had he really forgotten one of his foster brothers? Probably. She had friends in elementary school whose names she didn’t remember anymore. And that had been a long time ago. Maybe Roland remembered more about Antonio.

Allison and Deacon walked out to the landing. Allison stopped at the top, looked down and felt her heart lift like a balloon.

“‘The sun was shining on the sea, / Shining with all his might,’” sung a warm gentle voice from below. “‘And that was odd because it was...’”

“‘The middle of the night,’” Allison said.

He stood at the bottom of the stairs, smiling up at her and waiting. In his eyes she saw that same old kind and shining light she remembered from the first day she ever saw him.