Sybil at Sixteen by Susan Beth Pfeffer

can’t know that,” Meg said. “Suppose Sam brings his mother home with him. Suppose she decides to show up at his wedding? Suppose now that he’s made contact with her, now that one of his kidneys is keeping her alive, for heaven’s sake, he feels they have to see each other on some kind of regular basis. Suppose Evvie has children, and Sam’s mother wants to see her grandchildren. Or her parents die, and she goes to their funerals? Any one of those things could happen, and the FBI might well know, and guns could go off and Evvie could get hurt.”
    â€œSo what are you going to do?” Claire asked. “Tell Evvie she can’t marry him?”
    â€œI wish I could,” Meg replied. “I can’t tell you what a bad feeling I have about all this.”
    â€œNothing bad’s going to happen,” Claire said. “Linda Steinmetz has no desire to be caught. She’s been free for over twenty years now. And Sam’s first loyalty is to Evvie. He would never put her in any danger. Look how careful he’s being now. He won’t even call her at home.”
    â€œI don’t like that, either,” Meg said. “Evvie’s spending the whole week at work just in case he calls. We had plans for lunch today, and now she says she can’t even do that. Sam’s turned her life upside down. He’s made her a conspirator. For all we know, she’s criminally liable. She might end up in prison.”
    â€œThat won’t happen,” Nick said.
    â€œEvvie has never been the same since she met Sam,” Meg declared. “I’ve always blamed it on that summer at Eastgate, on all the things Aunt Grace must have told her, but now I know I was blaming Aunt Grace for nothing. It was Sam’s doing. Evvie was sixteen, and suddenly she was having to lie to her family, to her friends, to all the people who ever cared about her, because she felt she had to, to protect Sam. Only it wasn’t Sam she was protecting. It was his mother. And she’s a murderer.”
    â€œSometimes you protect your mother, no matter who she is,” Nick said. “It hurts too much if you don’t protect her.”
    â€œThe situations are completely different,” Meg said. “Completely. Your stepfather was a brute. Your mother was a victim. Linda Steinmetz is nobody’s victim.” Meg pushed her coffee cup away from her, and drops from it spilled on the table. She didn’t seem to notice.
    â€œEverything will be fine,” Claire said, getting up and sponging the table. “Stop worrying.”
    â€œAnd stop saying that!” Meg shouted. “I don’t need any Pollyanna routine from you, Claire. Everything will not be fine. It may never be fine again. Can’t you see that?”
    Claire carried the sponge back to the sink. “I’m sorry,” she said. “I guess I have more faith in Evvie and Sam than you do.”
    â€œHow can I have any faith in her?” Meg asked. “She’s been lying to me for years now.”
    â€œI’d like to go for a walk now,” Sybil whispered. She meant to say it louder, but her voice wouldn’t cooperate.
    â€œGood idea,” Nick said. “They’re predicting some more rain by noon. Let’s get the walk in before then.”
    â€œWould you like some more company?” Claire asked.
    â€œNo,” Sybil said sharply.
    â€œJust asking,” Claire said. “Thea, do you have any plans?”
    â€œI was going to go to the library and do some research,” Thea replied. “I have a paper due in a couple of weeks I’d like to work on.”
    â€œFine,” Claire said. “I’ll entertain myself. I’ll go shopping.”
    â€œThen we’re all set?” Nick asked. “Sybil, get your cane, and let’s get out of here.”
    Sybil followed Nick to the hall, and then outside. The day was already overcast. Her legs had been