time, the call went to voice mail after two rings—he was screening his calls.
And rejecting mine.
I kept telling myself to give him time—that River was right, and Alex would come around. Who am I kidding? Alex hates me. He’s disgusted by me. I remembered his horrified expression as Mom told him the truth. As the morning wore on, it things felt more and more hopeless.
Alex is gone.
It wasn’t until a teardrop fell on the page that I realized I was crying. Again.
Hard footsteps pounded up the stairs, and my bedroom door flew open.
“Ember, quick, you have to go!” River’s eyes were wide and the panic rolled off him in waves.
“What?” I felt my own heart speed up to match his.
“Didn’t you hear them? They just pulled up. Hurry, before it’s too late!”
“What? Who?” I had no idea what was going on—I’d been too wrapped up in my own misery.
He grabbed me by the hand and pulled me toward the door. I managed to snatch my purse from the bed before he dragged me into the hall. I was still wearing my slippers.
“A military jeep just pulled up in front of the house,” he hissed.
“Oh my God.” The air left my lungs, and I couldn’t pull in a new breath. “Alex…he turned us in?”
River bit his lip. “Maybe not. Maybe…”
“He turned me in, River!” I whispered. “He doesn’t understand. He’s not going to ‘come around’—he hates me so much, he doesn’t care what happens to me!”
“I just…I can’t believe he’d do that.”
“He’s afraid for his mother. I went to the hospital Thursday night. He’s afraid of me, and wants to keep me away.”
“Oh, Em, I told you to give him time,” he sighed. “But it’s too late for that. You need to go—sneak out the back door.”
I heard the heavy tread of multiple pairs of boots walking up onto the porch.
“And leave you and Mom? No way! If he turned me in, he probably turned us all in. I’m not leaving you.”
“Go, Em!” He pushed me toward the stairs. “Just go! Mom is already answering the door. There’s no point in all of us getting rounded up.”
“No, this is my fault!”
I heard Mom’s voice at the door, followed by a deeper voice.
“Please, go,” River hissed. “Call Dad and Meadow, and warn them not to come home.”
“Wait—aren’t you coming?”
“Ember!” Their mother called up the stairs. “Come on down.”
I had been too distracted by River and the sound of my own thudding heartbeat to hear the exchange down by the door. River and I exchanged fearful looks, then we both descended. Reaching the bottom of the stairs, I felt Mom’s fear, worry, and resignation ebb toward us. She led us to the front door, where a uniformed man of about sixty stood, flanked by two soldiers.
I didn’t miss the black armbands the men wore, emblazoned with large white letters—MP—which indicated they were military police.
We walked out onto the porch. I resisted the urge to take my mom’s hand and cling to it, like a little girl.
“Ember, this is Sergeant Major Weston,” Mom said. “He…he wants to speak with you.”
I bit my lip and said nothing. I wasn’t revealing anything. Mom and Dad had prepared us for this possibility long ago.
“Are you the same Ember Perry that was at Sacred Heart Hospital on Wednesday night, and again on Thursday night, visiting a…” he consulted a file in his hand “…Gina Baxter?”
“Y-yes,” I replied.
“What is this about?” my mother asked. I felt the dread radiating from her.
He fixed my mother with a kind expression, but I knew Mom and River could sense the same thing I could—it was a mask. Beneath his patient exterior, he was annoyed with her interference. I could feel his restrained aggression.
It scared me.
“Mrs. Perry, we just need to ask your daughter a few questions about what she saw in the hospital.”
“That doesn’t explain
And rejecting mine.
I kept telling myself to give him time—that River was right, and Alex would come around. Who am I kidding? Alex hates me. He’s disgusted by me. I remembered his horrified expression as Mom told him the truth. As the morning wore on, it things felt more and more hopeless.
Alex is gone.
It wasn’t until a teardrop fell on the page that I realized I was crying. Again.
Hard footsteps pounded up the stairs, and my bedroom door flew open.
“Ember, quick, you have to go!” River’s eyes were wide and the panic rolled off him in waves.
“What?” I felt my own heart speed up to match his.
“Didn’t you hear them? They just pulled up. Hurry, before it’s too late!”
“What? Who?” I had no idea what was going on—I’d been too wrapped up in my own misery.
He grabbed me by the hand and pulled me toward the door. I managed to snatch my purse from the bed before he dragged me into the hall. I was still wearing my slippers.
“A military jeep just pulled up in front of the house,” he hissed.
“Oh my God.” The air left my lungs, and I couldn’t pull in a new breath. “Alex…he turned us in?”
River bit his lip. “Maybe not. Maybe…”
“He turned me in, River!” I whispered. “He doesn’t understand. He’s not going to ‘come around’—he hates me so much, he doesn’t care what happens to me!”
“I just…I can’t believe he’d do that.”
“He’s afraid for his mother. I went to the hospital Thursday night. He’s afraid of me, and wants to keep me away.”
“Oh, Em, I told you to give him time,” he sighed. “But it’s too late for that. You need to go—sneak out the back door.”
I heard the heavy tread of multiple pairs of boots walking up onto the porch.
“And leave you and Mom? No way! If he turned me in, he probably turned us all in. I’m not leaving you.”
“Go, Em!” He pushed me toward the stairs. “Just go! Mom is already answering the door. There’s no point in all of us getting rounded up.”
“No, this is my fault!”
I heard Mom’s voice at the door, followed by a deeper voice.
“Please, go,” River hissed. “Call Dad and Meadow, and warn them not to come home.”
“Wait—aren’t you coming?”
“Ember!” Their mother called up the stairs. “Come on down.”
I had been too distracted by River and the sound of my own thudding heartbeat to hear the exchange down by the door. River and I exchanged fearful looks, then we both descended. Reaching the bottom of the stairs, I felt Mom’s fear, worry, and resignation ebb toward us. She led us to the front door, where a uniformed man of about sixty stood, flanked by two soldiers.
I didn’t miss the black armbands the men wore, emblazoned with large white letters—MP—which indicated they were military police.
We walked out onto the porch. I resisted the urge to take my mom’s hand and cling to it, like a little girl.
“Ember, this is Sergeant Major Weston,” Mom said. “He…he wants to speak with you.”
I bit my lip and said nothing. I wasn’t revealing anything. Mom and Dad had prepared us for this possibility long ago.
“Are you the same Ember Perry that was at Sacred Heart Hospital on Wednesday night, and again on Thursday night, visiting a…” he consulted a file in his hand “…Gina Baxter?”
“Y-yes,” I replied.
“What is this about?” my mother asked. I felt the dread radiating from her.
He fixed my mother with a kind expression, but I knew Mom and River could sense the same thing I could—it was a mask. Beneath his patient exterior, he was annoyed with her interference. I could feel his restrained aggression.
It scared me.
“Mrs. Perry, we just need to ask your daughter a few questions about what she saw in the hospital.”
“That doesn’t explain
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