Bitter Falls (Stillhouse Lake)(96)

“I don’t know what it means.”

“It means we’ll have to draw lots,” she says. “Women and children alike.”

I stare. “Like . . . like in that story? ‘The Lottery’?” It was a creepy story, all about a normal place and normal people but one person gets chosen and the whole town kills them.

“Just like that,” she says, and my whole body wants to cringe, bones and all. “That’s the culling. Only it won’t be death by stoning.”

She sounds scared and sick and angry. Just like me. But she’s keeping her voice low, so quiet that I don’t think the rest of them can hear. “I promise,” I tell her. “I’ll be good.”

She just nods. “They’re going to bring that girl in here,” she says. “Whatever happens, stay quiet. Promise.” She stiffens as Aria drifts closer to us. “Hush now, boy.” She’s louder, so Aria can hear. “You’ll do as you’re told without question. Do you understand?”

“I understand,” I say. I can see Aria reflected in the glass, staring at us.

We turn away from the window, and Sister Harmony leads me over to the others, then turns toward the door. I do too. I can feel Aria’s stare digging into me from behind, and I don’t know how I ever found her pretty. I hate that I kissed her. I’m thinking about that because my brain won’t shut up; it’s pinging around from one thing to another—Mom, Sam, Lanny, hating myself, being scared, being angry, wanting to smash Caleb’s face—and I can’t slow it down. I’m still cold. I still stink, and the smell keeps making me remember how helpless I felt out there in that water, with Father Tom ready to pour it over my head. I don’t know why that scares me so much.

There’s a rattle of keys outside. Harmony composes herself, gaze down, hands folded, and all around me, the other women and girls do the same. The kids do it too—even the toddlers. It’s weird and scary.

The door opens, and Vee Crockett walks in. I almost blurt out her name, and the relief at seeing a familiar face is intense. My brain even goes quiet for a few seconds, stunned by the weirdness of seeing her here.

But this isn’t the Vee I know. This one is wearing one of Lanny’s old plaid button-up shirts and warmup pants and she’s got all her makeup washed off. She looks way younger this way, and kind of sweet.

And scared.

“Prisoner,” Caleb snaps. “She says she’s from Wolfhunter. She says her mother told her about us. Keep her here until Father Tom confirms she was a recruit. Father Tom says the reckoning will be coming. Until we say different, she’s your responsibility.”

“Stray lambs are always welcomed,” Sister Harmony says without looking up. “God be praised.”

“God be praised,” everyone echoes, but from Caleb it sounds sour. He’s looking at Vee in a way I don’t like. “Get her cleaned up and into modest clothes. Father Tom will want to talk to her. We’ll see what her real story is.”

Harmony nods, and Caleb shuts and locks the door again. I stare at Vee and open my mouth, but she quickly looks away, and I realize she doesn’t want me to talk to her. So I don’t. But I’m burning to know why she’s here and where Mom is and what the hell is happening.

I spot one of Caleb’s RV guys looking in a window. He’s watching what we do. Sister Harmony must see him, too, because she turns to the other women and kids and says, “Let’s be to our beds. Lights out, please. I’ll keep one on here until our new brother and sister are settled.”

“He’s not our brother,” a voice says from near the corner. Aria, all bright, bitter eyes and smiles. “He’s going to be a saint. Father Tom said so.”

“Silence,” Harmony snaps, and Aria’s smile goes away. “Do you want me to report you as prideful and rebellious?”

“No, Sister.”

“Then do as you’re told, Aria.”

One by one, the women and kids go to their beds, climb in, and turn out their small lamps. It’s like watching stars go out, and once it’s down to just the single, dim light that Sister Harmony takes from her bedside table, I feel the darkness pressing in on all sides like we’re in the middle of a black glass globe. I feel like the air’s gotten thicker. My breath keeps moving faster, but I feel like I’m not getting any oxygen.

I don’t like the dark. I never did.

I want to talk to Vee, but I can’t, not yet. She was clear about that. “This way,” Harmony says, and leads us to the farthest set of beds—not near the door, but near the cribs at the other end. They’re made up, but unoccupied. “You, girl, what’s your name?”

“Vera. Vee.”

“Your name is now Sister Melody.” Harmony opens the trunk and takes out the standard uniform—long skirt, plain shirt—of the sisters. “Put those on. You may change there, in the robing room.”

Vee suddenly turns to me and says, “You look super familiar to me, but you ain’t from Wolfhunter.” That lets me know I’m not supposed to recognize her. And I quickly wonder why. But then I realize Vee can’t trust Harmony. She can’t trust anybody but me.

“I was on TV,” I tell her. “That’s probably why.”

“Oh yeah,” she says. “Sure. Are you here by yourself?”