“I don’t have any idea!” Lily babbled, raising her hands to cover her face when he lunged toward her.
“Give me your phone. Where is it?”
He began slapping at her, a couple of slaps to the side of her head before he worked his way down her body. He tugged up her sweatshirt, then stuffed his hands into her pockets, nearly pulling off her pants. “Where is it? You have her number. You know where she went.”
“I don’t know!” she shrieked. “I don’t know!”
He grabbed at her, rougher now, yanking her up so he could scream in her face. “Where’s my wife and son?”
But she couldn’t answer, because his hands were around her neck then. She tried to speak, then she tried to breathe, and then she only tried to pry his fingers open as her lungs caught fire and began to eat her alive. She burned for air, and then the world turned red, then gray, then, finally, black.
Lily floated. Nothing hurt; she didn’t even feel that sad, really. Her deep, dark sorrow was a phantom she couldn’t touch from this high up.
“I’m sorry . . . ,” she heard vaguely from somewhere far away. A spirit, maybe, leading her up? Or perhaps she was about to be pulled down beneath the earth and deeper still.
“I’m sorry I did that,” the voice purred. “I just need you to tell me the truth. We have to find Amber; it’s very important. If we don’t find Amber, very bad things will happen.”
Yes. Yes, she knew that. Very bad things were already happening.
Lily drew a deep breath that scalded her throat and sent her into a violent, wrenching coughing fit. When that finally cleared, every breath burned, but she could see gray light stealing past the edges of the ugly curtains above the sink. How much time had passed? Was Everett awake?
“I took her somewhere,” she croaked. Because she knew what she had to do now. She needed to lead Mendelson off the grounds so he could kill her somewhere very far away from her son.
“What?” he asked, leaning closer.
She coughed again, harder, until he finally got up to search through the cabinets until he found a water bottle. “I took her somewhere,” she tried again, and this time she knew he heard it, because he smiled.
And Lily immediately wished she were in the black void again.
CHAPTER 32
Everett was having a dream about being in a boy band, which was odd because he didn’t like boy bands. They all looked like cartoon characters to him.
But not his band. He was a member of a singing group of guys from his old soccer team, and they all wore their soccer stuff onstage. He was so frantically stressed about the new song he’d forgotten to memorize he felt nothing but a gasp of gratitude when his alarm woke him up.
Granted it wasn’t so much gratitude that he jumped out of bed. He had already fallen back asleep when a crack of lightning hit somewhere close, and he woke again with a start. He glanced at his clock and realized he’d now passed his second alarm. He must have hit SNOOZE during one of the dream’s dance numbers.
“Shit,” he cursed, then threw a wince at the door in case his mom was standing there.
She wasn’t. His door was still closed tight. Weird.
Getting up, he pulled on jeans that weren’t too dirty, then grabbed a pair of socks to head straight toward the bathroom to pee and brush his teeth. The whole apartment was dark, and the bathroom light didn’t respond when he hit the switch. “Mom?” he called, pausing for a moment in the doorway.
No answer. Storm damage, probably.
He raced through his morning routine in the near dark, then suddenly remembered that maybe he didn’t have to go to school today. He wandered out into the living room. Still no mom.
If he were taking the bus, he’d already be late for it, but maybe she’d let him sleep in because she was going to drive him.
Fingers crossed, he reached to tug the apartment door open. It didn’t budge. He turned the lock in confusion and looked into the office.
His mom wasn’t inside, and she’d locked the apartment door behind her. So she’d gone out onto the property, maybe to check for damage?
The morning hit him with beauty when he stepped outside, no sign of any bad weather now, just clean, crisp air and a few damp spots on the sidewalk. “Mom?” he ventured.
He hadn’t quite expected her to respond, but he still felt himself wilt a little when she didn’t answer. She was always there in the mornings. Always waking him up with a smile even when he could see the lines of worry around her mouth. She’d never been the type of mom to cook up eggs and pancakes before school like they did on TV, but she’d ruffle his hair and call him sleepyhead before offering milk or orange juice.