We follow her pointing finger.
There’s something on the path ahead. Dark and still and very clearly dead.
We get closer.
It’s a fox. Or what’s left of one.
The carcass is partially eaten. Torn open. The smell hits me and I have to turn away before I gag.
“Don’t touch it,” Marco says immediately. His voice has that edge that means he’s in protective mode. “Come here,piccola.”
Ben obeys, stepping back toward us. “What happened to it?”
“Something bigger ate it,” Marco says simply. Honest but not scary. “That’s what happens in nature. Animals hunt. It’s the circle of life.”
“Like in The Lion King?” Ben asks.
“Exactly like that.”
But I’m staring at the carcass. At the claw marks. At the way the ribs are exposed.
Somethingbiggerate it.
Yeah. Something with very big teeth and very sharp claws.
And suddenly I’m thinking about Ben. Sweet, anxious Ben who can’t even handle the school cafeteria without a breathing ritual. Ben who’s clutching a stuffed snail and thinks plants have feelings.
And we’re out here in the woods where things with very big teeth and very sharp claws tear other things apart.
With a loaded shotgun.
Planning to kill something in front of her. Even if Marco says he won’t do it if Ben seems like she can’t handle it.
This is a terrible idea.
A monumentally terrible idea.
What are we doing?
What amIdoing?
I’mthe nanny.
I’msupposed to protect her from bad decisions, not enable them.
And Marco’s the dad who wanted a son so badly he pretended he had one for two years and now he’s trying to turn his daughter into some kind of junior hunter and I’m just going along with it because I’m too in love with him to say no and—
My breathing’s getting faster. Shallower.
The trees are closing in.
We shouldn’t be here.
We should go back.
We should havenever come.
We’re going to get lost and something’s going to attack us and Ben’s going to see something horrible and it’s going to scar her forever and it’s all my fault because I didn’t speak up and—
