All the Little Lights(104)

She watched me for a moment. This was the most I’d spoken to her about my thoughts or feelings, and I could see her deciding to use it to her advantage. Her next question proved me right.

“Tell me what’s going on at home, and I’ll reconsider.”

“Are you . . . are you bribing me?”

“Yes,” she said flatly. “Tell me what you and Elliott are covering up, and I’ll let him come back to school tomorrow.”

My mouth dropped open. The room began to spin, and the air felt thinner. “This isn’t fair. I’m not sure this is even ethical.”

“Does it matter?” she asked, sitting back. She was proud of herself. She knew she’d already won.

“Can you even do that? Reverse his suspension?”

“I can give him in-house suspension with counseling. That should appease Owen’s parents.”

I rolled my eyes. “I told you, he could lose his scholarship.”

She shrugged. “That’s what I can do. Take it or leave it.”

“In-house suspension with counseling. You’re doing the counseling?”

“If you tell me the truth about what’s been happening in your home.”

I sat in my chair, hanging on to the back like it was a lifeline.

“You can think about it,” Mrs. Mason said.

It was easier than I thought to make the decision to leave. Now that Mrs. Mason was forcing me to choose between saving Elliott or the Juniper, the answer came to me in seconds. In that moment, I was sure that I loved him, that I was worthy of his love, and that letting the Juniper go under was what would truly save Mama in the end. She might hate me until she got better, or she might hate me forever, but I knew it was the right thing to do for everyone I loved. Althea and Poppy, I knew, would understand.

I met Mrs. Mason’s gaze; the decision was easy, but the words were difficult to say aloud. I was about to go against everything I had fought to protect for over two years, every reason for pushing Elliott away—for pushing everyone away. My cage was about to blow wide open. For the first time in a very long time, I didn’t know what would happen next.

“I don’t need to,” I said.

Mrs. Mason lowered her chin as if she were bracing herself for what I might say. “Catherine, are you being cared for at home?”

I cleared my throat, my heart thumping so loud I thought Mrs. Mason could surely hear it. “No.”

Mrs. Mason clasped her hands together, waiting patiently for me to continue.





Chapter Thirty-One

Catherine

Madison slowed to a stop in front of the Juniper, and Sam leaned forward, looking up at the dusty windows and chipped paint.

“Wow,” Sam said, his mouth hanging open.

“Thanks, Maddy. I know your dad doesn’t want you around me, so I appreciate you giving me a ride. I hope you don’t get into any trouble.”

Madison turned in her seat to show her disgust in its full glory. “It’s two degrees below freezing, and Elliott isn’t allowed on campus to pick you up. Of course I’m going to give you a ride home.”

I smiled. “Thank you. Mrs. Mason offered, but I saw her to-do list for this evening, and it was two pages long.”

“Want me to walk you to the door? Or inside?” Sam asked, peering out the window in awe.

“Sam! God!” Madison scolded. “Not the time!”

“No, thank you,” I said, gathering my things.

Madison touched my arm.

I carried my backpack inside and went upstairs, folding my clothes and placing as many shirts, pants, socks, and underwear as I could fit in the luggage my dad had bought me years before. I’d fantasized a hundred times about using it for the first time, but never in those fantasies did leaving the Juniper for just another place in Oak Creek cross my mind.

Different scenarios played over and over in my mind, Mama’s reaction, saying goodbye, and hoping it would all be okay in the end. Still, nothing I could imagine made me regret helping Elliott. He was good, like Althea and Dad were good. Elliott had been pushed into a corner and then fought his way out, but there weren’t many things he wouldn’t do for those he loved. I just happened to be one of the lucky few.

Cupboards slammed downstairs, and then someone called my name—someone young and impatient, but it wasn’t Poppy.

“Hey,” I said, rounding the corner and sitting on the island.

“You look terrible,” Cousin Imogen snarled. She set a cup of tea in front of me and crossed her arms.

I sat with my coat on at the kitchen island, holding my hands over the cup of steaming tea like it was a campfire. Imogen seemed unaffected, wearing her favorite peace sign T-shirt, her hair tucked behind her ears. She stood with her backside leaning against the counter, watching me. Nearly all the cupboards were wide open, left that way after she’d rummaged through them looking for the tea bags.

She usually offered an olive branch in the form of tea after her dad treated me terribly, but before, it had always been a day or two after it happened. Mama had never forbidden anyone to come back before, and until that moment, I’d held out hope that she could actually make them stay away.

Imogen glared at me. “Well? Are you going to drink the stupid tea or not?”

A thick silence followed Imogen’s question, allowing the whistling wind sneaking inside the weak parts of the Juniper to be noticed. A door slammed upstairs, and we both looked up.