Bitter Falls (Stillhouse Lake)(97)

She’s asking about Sam without mentioning him. I say, “More or less. I’m with my dad. But he’s in another building.” She nods, and I know she’s got it. “Where did you come from?”

She shrugs and looks a little ashamed of herself. I know Vee, but it still looks like real stuff to me, even though I don’t think Vee’s been ashamed of herself in years. “Father Tom came to see me when I was just a little girl, and I always wanted to join up; my momma just wouldn’t let me, but she’s dead now. I was going to join the Assembly there, but—but the enemies destroyed it.” She turns toward Harmony, who’s watching us with very sharp eyes. “I guess you heard about that?”

“The Assembly group in Wolfhunter sinned,” Harmony says. “They were greedy.”

Vee looks down, and she seems really, really meek. She’s picked up on how to act awfully fast, but then again, she did live in Wolfhunter. “Yes, Sister,” she says. “Did Brother Carr make it here? I was told he was trying.”

“Were you.” Harmony’s tone gets cold. “Brother Carr has joined the saints.”

Vee’s startled by that, and she glances up at me, then quickly away. “Oh,” she just says. “Okay.”

“How did you get here?” Harmony asks.

“Walked.”

“Walked,” Harmony repeats. “It’s a very long way from Wolfhunter.”

“Well, I hitched for part of it.” Vee says. “Thank you for the bed. I’m so tired.”

Harmony’s studying her carefully. As good as Vee’s act is—and it’s pretty good, she’s sticking close to truth—Sister Harmony is smart and careful. Vee starts to reach for the clothes that Harmony’s set out on the bed.

Harmony grabs her wrist and holds her still. She lowers her voice to a low whisper I can hardly catch and says, “Who sent you?”

“Nobody,” Vee says. She keeps it just as quiet. “Nobody sent me.” It’s weird, but I think she’s telling the truth.

“You came alone?”

Vee nods. Harmony’s face twists up, like she’s angry; I see her grip on Vee’s wrist go hard enough that the girl winces. And that’s not good. Vee hits out when she’s hurt, I know that, and I feel the rush of fear inside me. She doesn’t know there are rules here. That people might get killed for her breaking them.

I say, “Hey, you’re hurting her,” to Harmony just as I see the dark flash in Vee’s eyes and her other fist tighten up. Harmony lets go, and Vee sinks down on the bed. There’s a red handprint where Harmony was grabbing her, and Vee rubs at it, glaring back.

That’s when I realize that there are tears in Harmony’s eyes. She isn’t angry. She’s desperate. She wants so badly to believe that someone, anyone, is coming to stop this.

That’s when I know for sure I can trust her. But I know I can’t trust any of the others in here, so I say, “I have to go to the toilet.”

“Yes, go,” Harmony says. She doesn’t even look at me. I don’t move from where I’m standing until she finally does. “What?”

“Uh, it’s dark,” I say. “And I don’t know where it is.”

She makes an impatient noise and grabs the lamp. “Come with me, then.”

Vee gets it. Instantly. “Can I come too?” she asks. “I—I need to pee.”

“Bring your clothes. You’ll change there. I have to search you.” Harmony’s voice is shaking. I don’t know what she’s thinking, but I know she feels trapped. I do too. I feel like Vee showing up is the best thing and the worst thing all at once. If she’s here, I have to think that Mom’s not far behind. And probably other people too.

Day of reckoning. Maybe Father Tom was right.

The long bathroom at the back of the room doesn’t have a door, but it does have stalls with curtains that pull closed. I’m warmer now, and I put the damp blanket in a woven laundry basket and go to wash my hands. I leave the water running and turn to Vee and quickly whisper, “Vee, you can trust her. It’s okay.”

Harmony’s head whips toward me, then back to Vee. “You do know him,” she says to Vee. She keeps her voice low, barely above a whisper. We all need to. “I thought so. Tell me, quickly: Are the police on the way? Did you send them?”

Vee doesn’t answer her directly. She looks at me instead. “You’re sure about this?” She means about Sister Harmony.

“Yes.”

“Your momma didn’t want me to do this. I had to get here myself. But I knew I needed to get inside and make sure you were okay. And I knew I could, ’cause . . .” She swallows. “Father Tom will remember me.”

“How’d you even get here? You didn’t really walk?”

She rolls her eyes, and looks exactly like the old, familiar Vee. “I stole some old guy’s truck couple of houses down from your place. It ran out of gas a couple of miles back and I had to walk the rest of the way. But your mom and those others, they won’t be far behind.” She takes a deep breath. “And the FBI, too, I guess.”

Vee suddenly hugs me, and it feels good, really good, to know there’s someone here who knows me. Really knows me. While we’re in that hug, she whispers, “I got this for you.” It’s like a magician’s move the way the switchblade appears in her hand, and she presses it into my palm. I quickly slide it into my shirtsleeve, then step back and put my hands in the pockets of my stiff, weird pants. The knife slides down. I’m armed now. I don’t know how I feel about that.