That was a conversation I wasn’t ready to have yet.
“Something’s on your mind,” Francesca accused quietly.
I turned to my friend. “Something’s always on my mind,Frankie.”
She flinched at her old nickname, the one that Ihardly ever called her anymore. FrankieVolkovawasdead as far as the two of us were concerned.
Also as far as her uncles wereconcerned.
Her tone turned cutting, sharp with the edge of fear.To speak our old nicknames was to invite trouble, to conjure the ghosts both ofus were desperate to keep buried. “Well, why don’t you tell me what it is,Caro.”
I ignored her defensiveness and tried to articulate mywhirlwind thoughts. “I have a funny feeling.”
She softened some, letting out her misplacedaggression in a long sigh. “Is it the pizza, Princess Poop?”
A laugh bubbled out of me. “Maybe.”
We were silent for a long time. Francesca changed theinput on the TV and turned it to late night reruns ofThe Real Housewives. I thought the conversation was over. Afterliving together for so long and knowing each other our entire lives, sometimeswe didn’t need to hash everything out. I knew what she was thinking most of thetime and she knew what was going on in my head.
And for some reason we still liked each other.
After a while, she voiced her thoughts. “We’d be deadalready,” she said. “You know it as well as Ido, Caroline.If they knew where we were, we’d already be dead.”
I had thought the same thing, but that didn’t erasethe panic fluttering in my chest.
I turned to face her again, knowing she was right. Myfingers curled around Juliet’s shoulder reflexively, protecting my daughterfrom those ominous ghosts hovering nearby. “So you feel safe here?”
A sad smile tilted the corners of her mouth. “There isnot a place on this planet where I would feel safe. But I think we’re wellhidden. And for me, that’s enough.”
The flyer was still tucked into my purse.
Where is he?
Where is who?
“What if we’re not hidden well enough, Frankie? Whatwill we do?”
She turned back to the TV, her dark eyes clouded withmemories of our past. “Run.” She tightened her grip on the remote, her knucklesturning white with the intensity of her grip. “And this time we won’t stop.”
My body remained still, calm, rested, but inside mychest my heart pounded with two fists and my blood rushed through my veins likeit was being chased. The TV was alive with sound and noise and rich womenscreeching at each other, but my head felt like someone had thrust it underwater. I heard nothing but the whooshing of my own frantic thoughts.
Frankie and I had escaped a world of nightmares by theskin of our teeth. We were lucky to be alive. And even luckier to have found aplace to make our home. But not a day went by that I didn’t think back on whatour lives used to be and feel the chill of it creep over my skin, like aspecter reaching out from the grave to pull me inside.
I sat there for another hour, struggling to tuck allthe escaped demons of my past back into the carefully locked box that I usuallykept them in. It took a while for my heartbeat to slow and my panic to subsideand for everything that I used to be to fit once more inside that internal prison.But I managed.
I picked up Juliet, softly grunting at how big she’dgotten. Her long hair tumbled over my arm as I carried her to her bedroom andshe curled her body into mine lovingly.
Laying her on her princess-themed bed, I tucked her inbeneath the fluffy pink duvet and kissed her forehead. “I love you, sweetJuliet,” I whispered to her like I did every night, repeating the lyrics of theNeil Diamond song she was named after.
She didn’t respond, she was too asleep to care.Instead, she flipped over and found a more comfortable position.
My insides ached as I watched her sweet, sleepingfigure for long moments. I had a terrifying past, but she was my beautiful future.She was the reason I ran and the reason I would always run. She was worth allof the other trouble.
I pressed a hand to my stomach as it flipped again.Instinct warned that something was coming. This time I listened. And preparedmyself. And girded my resolve against whatever it was.
The first time I ran was so Juliet could live. And nothinghad changed. If I had to run every day for the rest of my life to keep mydaughter alive, I would.
Chapter Four
