I guess I could eventually invest in the stock market. Get in on the ground floor of Apple or Google or Facebook or some other mega-bajillion-dollar tech company that will set me up for life. Maybe that’s why Stan never worked. He always said he retired early, although I figured that was just code for “permanently unemployed.” Now I wonder whether he actually had a lot more cash stuffed in his mattress than I previously thought.
But of course, becoming a stock-market millionaire still requires me to get enough money together to actually invest in the first place, and to tide me over for the years it will take for my knowledge of the future to actually become profitable. All the Google stock in the world won’t do me any good if I starve to death before the internet becomes a thing.
Before too long, though, I toss the paper aside. Trying to plan out my lonely life of solitude is depressing as hell. Every time I focus on it too much, I get this awful, writhing feeling in my gut, like I’ve swallowed a snake. I’ve only ever loved three people in my life. And judging by Stan’s completely nonexistent social life, that’s the way it’s going to stay.
Two of them I won’t see again for decades, and when I do, I’ll be someone else.
And the third is already done with me.
The thought is crushing. I can’t hold it for long, or I’ll forget how to breathe.
So I slump in my seat as morning bleeds into afternoon and buses continue to depart without me on them, trying to distract myself with the soap operas playing on the TV in the corner. They’re the same ones I’ve been watching at Mrs. Hanley’s, but I can’t even get into them because I’m too distracted watching the clock.
Veronica’s and Bill’s faces keep flashing through my mind. They don’t know that their time is almost up, and there’s no way for me to warn them. Veronica already doesn’t trust me. For all I know, if I tried to convince her and Bill to stay away from the school, it would turn out to be the very reason they go.
No matter how I look at it, saving them is a lost cause. In a couple of hours, they’ll be gone.
Then why can’t I let this go?
Why do I feel like I’m going to crawl out of my skin if I stay on this bench a second longer?
Can I really sit here watching soap operas, knowing what I know?
Can I really just get on a bus and leave?
I should. There’s nothing I can do. My knee still throbs every time I put my full weight on my leg, a reminder that any attempt to change the past is pointless.
Rose doesn’t want anything to do with me. That walking canker sore Gibson will probably throw my ass in jail if he sees me again.
There is nothing for me here. No one.
Except my mom.
Except her parents.
The family I never had. The family she should have had.
It’s probably futile. It’s most definitely stupid.
But I can’t leave them. If there’s even the smallest chance Rose is right, that there’s still something I can do to save them, I have to try.
Shoving my bus ticket in my pocket, I head to the school. There’s still some time left before the fire. I have no real plan, just the resolution to stop Bill and Veronica from getting trapped in that building in any way I can. If I fail, I fail. But I’m not ready to give up. Not yet.
It turns out Rose may have gotten under my skin after all.
I turn off the sidewalk to cut through the parking lot of the Food Mart and around the back of the store, taking a shortcut to the school.
I’m so busy thinking through how I might still save Bill and Veronica that I don’t hear the footsteps coming up behind me until it’s too late. “Now!” someone yells, and I turn just in time for the branch that was aimed at the back of my head to catch me between the neck and shoulder instead.
I fall to my knees, choking as I take in my attackers.
The monster and his minions. Robbie Reynolds and his two cronies. They stand over me grinning ghoulishly, looking extremely proud of themselves as I gasp for air. I want to wring their scrawny little necks, but my body is too preoccupied with trying to remember how to breathe after taking a tree branch to the trachea.
All I can do is paw feebly at them as they grab me by the arms and drag me behind a dumpster.
Chapter Sixty-Four
VERONICA
“Say that again?” Bill stared at her from across the bedroom, his face pale, the ends of his blue tie slipping forgotten from his fingers. Between them, Millie rolled around on the bed, entertaining herself in a pile of pillows and blankets.
“I’m pregnant,” Veronica repeated, fastening her earrings in place. It felt a little more real every time she said the words.
She’d finally put the pieces together that morning when she’d gotten sick again at Diane’s. After running to the bathroom, she’d checked her planner and confirmed her suspicion. She’d just been so busy lately, she hadn’t realized how late she was.
“Are you sure?”
“I’ll need to call the doctor’s office on Monday to confirm, but it’s been eight weeks, Bill. I’m never this late. And I’ve been feeling sick all week. I thought it was just nerves about the debate, but . . .” She shrugged, giving him a hopeful smile. “What do you think?”
Bill blinked at her uncomprehendingly for a moment, then shook his head, looking stunned. “I mean—well, what do you think? Are you, you know . . . okay with this? I know we weren’t planning on it . . .” He trailed off, looking at her with what she recognized as his counselor expression: detached, empathetic, interested. But he couldn’t hide the hope in his eyes.
She nodded. “I was really surprised at first. But after thinking about it all day, I think . . . I think I’m really excited.”
Bill’s expression lightened, a smile breaking across his face. “Me too,” he admitted, then vaulted over the bed to sweep her up in a hug. “Babe, we’re going to have another baby!”
Veronica laughed, feeling suddenly a hundred pounds lighter. “We are!”
“You’re going to be a big sister, Millie!” Bill said, scooping Millie up off the bed and spinning her through the air. She squealed in surprised delight, uncertain why her daddy was flying her around the room, but happy to go along with it.
“Okay,” Bill said breathlessly, setting Millie back down on the bed. “That means you’ll be due . . . when, sometime in the summer?”
“End of May, I think,” Veronica said. She’d done the math earlier, although of course she couldn’t be sure until she saw her doctor.
Bill nodded to himself, and Veronica could almost see the gears in his head turning. “So school won’t be done yet, but I’ve got some vacation time saved up that should be enough to get me through the end of the school year. And then—”
“Sweetheart,” Veronica said, taking Bill’s face in her hands. “I know you love to plan ahead, but we don’t have to figure everything out tonight. We can slow down.”
But that just seemed to remind him of something else, his eyes growing wide. “Oh, honey, the campaign! Are you going to be okay?”
She nodded. “I haven’t told Diane yet, obviously—I wanted to wait until after I go to the doctor—but I should be fine. The election is in just a few weeks, so I’ll still be pretty early and won’t have to announce it yet. And then if she wins, she’d take office in January, so I’d have a few months to get everything set up and running smoothly before I have to leave.” She’d been working it out in her head all morning. It would be a lot of work to do while pregnant, but she was sure she could manage it. Especially with a boss like Diane.