The Leaving(85)

Maybe she was right. Maybe for her, they would be.

Avery’s phone dinged but she ignored it.

Emma sounded way better here than she had that day on the lanai and now Avery thought her friend might actually get the lead, which she hadn’t before, not really. But it had been the right thing to say and to hope for.

People in the audience clapped when she was done and Avery put two fingers in her mouth and whistled, loudly. Even from the back row, Emma’s smile beamed.

She rejoined Avery in their seats and Avery high-fived her. “Nailed it!”

“You think?”

“I think.” Avery gathered her things. “I’m heading out.”

“Okay. Talk later.” Emma hugged her. “Thanks for coming.”

“Of course.” Avery got up and went out into the hall, then out the doors of school.

The text from Dad said,

Hi hon. You should come home.

In-person news was bad news.

That was the rule.


Sure enough:

“I’m so sorry.” Chambers stood facing her and her parents, who were seated on the living room sofa; Rita puttered in the kitchen. “We found remains at the former principal’s house. We’re still waiting on the confirmation from the lab, but all signs point to the remains being Max’s. He appears to have died quite a long time ago. Possibly the same day as the abduction.”

“An asthma attack,” Avery said.

“Most likely, yes.”

“Did Max even have asthma?” She turned to her parents.

“The onset can be unpredictable, and sudden,” Chambers said. “I mean, if he wasn’t diagnosed?”

Her father shook his head.

Chambers said, “It’s possible there’d never been a strong enough trigger before . . .” Then he and her father stepped away to talk further and Avery moved closer to her mom on the couch.

“What did I ever do to deserve this?” her mom wailed.

“It’s not your fault,” Avery said through tears that had started to form. Because it was finally and truly over—the tiny bit of hope they’d all been clinging to had been chopped off, like with a hatchet, taking the whole hand with it.

Just gone.

“Oh, Max. My poor Max. I don’t think I can get over this”—her mother was all panicked-sounding—“I don’t think I’m going to be able to get over this.”

The feeling of wanting to take that severed limb of hope and hit her mother over the head with it, just to snap her out of it.

“I don’t think I can. I don’t think I can.”

“You have to, Mommy.”

“I can’t! I won’t! My Max!” Her mother moved far enough to grab a tissue and blow her nose.

“But you have me.” Avery’s voice got deep. “I’m here. I’ve been here. I’ve been here the whole time.”

Her father came in and said, “Let’s give her some time, Ave,” and sat beside his wife.


The doorbell rang maybe twenty minutes later and Avery was grateful for the excuse to leave the room. Her dad had just been sitting by her mother’s side, stroking her hand. Avery wasn’t sure he’d even looked at her, though he’d called a few friends, relatives.

She opened the door expecting her mom’s friend Patty to be there, holding some useless casserole.

Lucas said, “I just heard.”

He reached for her hand and she stepped out onto the porch and into his arms. With her chin against his chest, she started to sob.

“You did it, Ave,” he said softly into her hair. “You found him.”





Scarlett


Kristen had taken down the puffy princess mobile, and Scarlett had purged the jewelry box of plastic beads and clip-on earrings—everything except the Anchor Beach penny and the half of the best-friend heart she’d split with Vanessa.

Together they’d bagged up clothes and books for donations.

They’d tossed most of the toys and peeled My Little Pony decals off the wall.

They’d gone through a sizable stack of kid artwork—photographing a few nice pieces and chucking the rest.

That left Glinda, which Scarlett decided she was going to burn on the beach.

It would feel cleansing, symbolic.

Perhaps not as symbolic as it would if she had a life-size cardboard cutout of the Great Oz, but close enough.

It was a good evening for it.

A little bit unseasonably cold.

She took a lighter she’d found in a kitchen drawer down to the beach just past the back fence and lit Glinda at the hem of her dress. A moment later the flame went out.

“Brilliant plan,” Kristen said.

“Why are you here again?”

“Moral support.”

“Exactly.” Then Scarlett pulled her into a hug and squeezed. “I don’t care that you think we didn’t like each other.”

“Yeah,” Kristen said, “I’m over it.” She looked serious, then said, “It was never about Lucas, you know.”

“Adam?” Scarlett tried to light Glinda again.

“No, Scarlett. It was you. I think I was in love with you.”



/

/

/