Say the Word(41)

Fae and I traded apprehensive glances as Roza came to a stop in front of an ancient brick walkup.

“Home,” Roza told us, pointing up at the third story window.

“Rozafa!” The woman’s voice cut through the air like a whip, and Roza turned instantly toward the sound. A string of rapid Albanian followed, and we watched as Roza’s cheeks flushed in response to whatever was said. A small round woman stood on the street corner, her hands planted on her hips as she glared at the seven-year-old. She was flanked on either side by a small group of women, all of whom were staring at Fae and me with varying looks of unwelcome.

I’d bet my last bag of Cool Ranch Doritos that this was Roza and Vera’s mother.

Roza walked over to the woman, who immediately grabbed hold of her shoulders and shook her hard enough to set her teeth rattling. “Mama!” Roza squealed unhappily.

I opened my mouth to protest and started forward, but Fae’s hand clamped down like a vise on my arm and held me in place.

“Don’t,” Fae advised quietly. “Their turf, their rules.” My mouth snapped closed and I cast a glance at her. Apparently, Fae was taking our street confrontation very seriously; that, or she was living out some Outsiders-themed fantasy leftover from her grade-school days.

“Whatever you say, Ponyboy,” I whispered, barely containing my laughter.

Fae’s lips twisted up into an amused smirk. “Chill out, Sodapop.”

The five women, who ranged in age from a teenager around Vera’s age to a stooped elderly woman who was likely a centenarian, stared at us impassively.

“I’m Lux,” I called in what I hoped was a nonthreatening tone. “A friend of Roza’s.”

None of them responded — either they didn’t speak English, or they really didn’t care what I had to say.

“I just want to know if Vera is okay,” I told them. “I was worried.”

At the sound of Vera’s name, their faces changed. The woman at the front of the pack who I assumed was her mother instantly crumpled, her face shuttering of all expression and her shoulders stooping in defeat. The other women had similar reactions — some looked fearful, casting their gazes around the street at the passerby, while others just looked saddened by the mention of her name.

I felt my stomach clench at their reactions, and Fae squeezed my arm lightly in support. We both knew it wasn’t a good sign — it meant that Vera was in some kind of serious trouble.

“Can we help?” I asked, locking eyes with the girls’ mother. Her own turned from sorrowful to steely as they held my gaze.

“Go,” she spat at me. “Go away.”

“But—”

“We don’t need your help.” The words were spoken in broken English, but their meaning was inescapable. We were sticking our noses into their business, and they didn’t like it.

“Time to go, Lux,” Fae whispered. “There’s nothing more we can do here. We tried.”

“I’m sorry,” I called, backing away a step. “We didn’t mean to intrude on family matters.”

“Go,” the woman repeated, turning on her heel and walking away. Roza waved sadly at me before following her mother and the rest of the women into the building and out of sight.

“What the hell just happened?” Fae asked, turning a dumbfounded stare on me.

“I have no idea,” I told her, equally confused.

“What now?”

“I guess we go hom—” I began to answer her, but my words were interrupted by a tentative voice.

“Excuse me?”

Fae and I turned our heads to find the youngest from the group of Albanian women hovering unsurely several feet from us. She looked ready to bolt at any moment, her eyes restlessly scanning the neighborhood for an unknown threat.

“You speak English?” I asked her.

“A little,” she confirmed in a whisper. “You…you want to talk about Vera, yes?”

I nodded.

“I will tell you what I know, but…” Her fearful gaze met mine and held for one fleeting moment. “Not here. Meet me at this address. Tomorrow, three o’clock. Come alone.” With that, she shoved a small piece of paper into my hand and was gone, vanishing into the building before I could even process her words or formulate a response.

“Well, Alice, you’ve done it now,” Fae said, linking one arm through mine and guiding me back toward the subway entrance.

“Done what?” I asked distractedly, my mind reeling as I studied the address on the paper in my hand.

“Stumbled down the rabbit hole.”

“Did you just call me Alice?”

“Yes, Alice. As in, Wonderland.” Fae shook her head. “Bit of advice? Don’t drink the tea. And definitely don’t take directions from a cat.”





Chapter Fifteen





Then


I pushed the wheelchair faster as we maneuvered down the sidewalk, hoping we wouldn’t be spotted by a nurse peering out one of the windows.

“What’s the hurry, sis?” Jamie asked.

I winced as the chair went over a particularly big bump and jostled Jamie, but I didn’t slow down.

“Seriously, what’s going on?” His voice was curious, but still largely unconcerned. He was always up for an adventure.