6. Does your child bully others?
Children who humiliate and harm others for thrills should be watched carefully and evaluated by a psychiatrist. Sometimes, bullies have been mistreated themselves. Children who cried out as infants and were ignored might turn into children who bully others. They might want power or attention…or to be like their violent parents, whom they idolize.
Whitney checked YES, though she resented the implication that she might be to blame for Roma’s penchant for bullying other kids.
7. Is your child insensitive?
Future psychopaths don’t seem as fearful as normal children. They don’t sense stress in the same way, and seem to lack compassion.
Whitney finished her coffee and put down the mug. Roma seemed completely driven by amusing herself. She had told Whitney the day before that she wanted to kill Xavier.
* * *
—
NOW, SO MANY YEARS after taking the quiz on her daughter’s behalf, Whitney had finally outwitted Roma. For years, Whitney and Jules had hoped Roma could be cured. Whitney took her daughter to therapists and psychiatrists; she had even checked her in to a psychiatric hospital against her will, but Jules had checked her out a day later, claiming a mentally ill child would ruin them. （“No one,” said Jules, “wants to think about their realtor having a daughter with mental problems. We can handle this at home.”）
At home, Roma walked around at night, terrifying her brother. Any pets were soon “missing.” Every day when Roma went to school, Whitney waited for bad news—a hurt child, or worse. Whitney grew more and more fraught, desperate, but Jules could not be convinced to send Roma away. He informed his wife that he would sign his daughter out of any facility Whitney “trapped” her inside.
One night, Whitney prayed for help. In the morning, she woke with a plan. She started her research that day, watching a 20/20 episode about how teens buy drugs online, scanning Craigslist and learning the lingo （“No LE” for “no law enforcement”…as if a cop would read “No LE” and stay away）。
On the first night of summer, Whitney advertised pills she had left over from an old Pilates injury: “Candy 80mg. $80 each. No LE.” She put Roma’s cell number as the contact, then took her daughter’s phone and changed the passwords. A stranger named Lucy Masterson had responded within minutes. Whitney had donned Roma’s clothes, left the pills in a paper bag by the dumpster at the 7-Eleven.
When she got Lucy’s Venmo payment, Whitney turned off Roma’s phone and hid it in her Kate Spade makeup case. It was a one-time event. Her plan was to report the texts to the police in the morning…and the police would take Roma. At least for a few days, maybe longer. While she was gone, Whitney could make a plan for Xavier, try to convince Jules it was finally time to get Roma help.
Before it had all gone wrong, in the revolting 7-Eleven bathroom, Whitney changed back into her own clothes. She’d scrubbed her hands with the cheap soap and shivered, overwhelmed with hope.
Whitney exited the 7-Eleven, certain that no one had seen her. Until she looked across the parking lot.
Charlie Bailey.
She didn’t know if Charlie had seen her. He’d seemed pretty wrapped up with the hoodlum he was kissing. But Whitney didn’t know.
And she needed to execute this plan, make sure Roma stayed safe behind bars as long as possible. What if Charlie told the police—or his mother—that he’d seen Whitney that night, wearing Roma’s clothes. If Whitney ended up in jail, Xavier would have no one to protect him.
Whitney had planned only to have Roma put away for selling drugs! How was she to know that her sole customer would wander from the 7-Eleven to the greenbelt, overdose, and fall to her death where the Three Musketeers were swimming? How was she to know the random person who had responded to her “candy for sale” post would be sleeping with Bobcat?
She could handle this.
It was one last thread.
Whitney needed to make sure Charlie Bailey stayed silent.
-10-
Annette
THE METAL DOOR OPENED, and Annette’s son emerged from the Gardner Betts Juvenile Justice Center, flanked by two officers. He looked diminished. “I’m so sorry, Mom,” said Robert.
She shook her head, overwhelmed. He thought he could fix everything with an apology, as his father had taught him.
“Sorry for what, honey?” said Annette.
Robert looked at her, seeking. He was a boy who had fallen in love. Annette wanted to protect his heart, to show him another way.
“I don’t know,” he said.
-1-
Charlie
THEY BUY SNACKS AT the 7-Eleven, and in the car, Amir kisses Charlie. His mouth tastes of Takis: cheese flavoring, some corn derivative, fake lime. Charlie can’t help himself: he puts his hand on Amir and Amir is hard. “Not here,” he says.
“Where?” says Charlie, moving his hand up and down slowly, keeping his lips pressed to Amir’s.
“Fuck, man,” says Amir, laughing.
“I can’t wait,” says Charlie, moving to Amir’s chest, unbuttoning his shirt. His father is almost forgotten, and the stupid kid he’d been, just hours before, paying for a strange man’s plane ticket, getting through half a cup of coffee before this man—who looked just like him, if he had been strung out on heroin for decades—ditched. Charlie is an idiot, but kissing Amir makes it all OK.
“I can’t wait either,” says Amir, straining against Charlie’s hand. “But we should wait. We’re at the 7-Eleven. There’s your friend, Roma, right there!”
Charlie looks up and sees a figure in an Austin High sweatshirt placing a wrapped package by the dumpster. When she stands, though, Charlie sees that although the woman wears Roma’s favorite hat and her clothing, it’s Roma’s mother, Whitney. “Shit!” he says, laughing.
Amir puts his hand on Charlie’s hand, smiles at Charlie. Whitney walks into the 7-Eleven, seemingly unaware that she is being watched. “Wouldn’t think that rich bitch would shop at the 7-Eleven,” says Amir.
Charlie laughs. “It’s not Roma, it’s her mom,” he says.
“What?” says Amir. “Why she dressing up like a teenager?”
“Maybe a TikTok thing; who cares?” says Charlie.
“Speaking of…” says Amir.
“Fuck,” says Charlie. He’d forgotten to take down the mournful video he’d made.
“What happened?” said Amir.
Charlie takes his hand off Amir’s dick. “I guess I don’t have a dad,” he says. “There’s not much more to say about it, really.” This is his story now, and it sucks. “My dad’s a drug addict,” he says. “Maybe that’s why my mom took off in the first place. I don’t know.”
“I’m sorry,” says Amir.
Charlie rests his head on Amir’s chest. It is what it is, and he’s glad to know the truth, anyway. Wondering took a lot more energy. He lifts his head. Amir kisses him.
Charlie looks up and sees Whitney again, but this time she’s dressed in her own clothes, some purple dress, fancy leopard-skin boots. Did she change clothes in the 7-Eleven?
Whitney’s walking right past the car. Charlie doesn’t think she’s seen them but he can’t be sure. As she waits to cross Barton Skyway, the heart-shaped locket she always wears on her right wrist glints in the sun. She turns, then, and looks straight at him.