She needed to be sure that Hestia wouldn’t vanish again. Despite what her last therapist said, Ellie was certain there was a reason why some people vanished. Not the usual reasons, like murderous spouses or criminals silencing witnesses, but a reason Ellie couldn’t quite understand—despite her copious research. The only thing she had gleaned was the missing were all interesting, adventurous people.
So Ellie decided to beuninteresting,although she had a secret belief that she was far from uninteresting. She laughed it off most days. It was a sort of arrogance, a narcissism, to believe Ellie Brandeau—small-town librarian and quiet wallflower—was anything extraordinary.
And thinking otherwise made her feel like eels were swarming under her skin.
2Maggie
Maggie Lynch was driving through the mountains of North Carolina at the end of her vacation with her son, Craig. By tonight, she would have to turn her son over to his father.
“Are you okay, Mom?” Craig folded himself into the too-small space of the passenger seat. He was all legs and arms, a teen athlete whose body seemed longer and leaner than he knew what to do with unless he was on a field or court.
“Not really,” Maggie admitted. A part of her wanted to just keep driving, to go anywhere else. Fake identities. New lives. Maybe she could waitress or something.
“Something new bothering you?” Craig prompted. “Something Dad did?”
Maggie glanced at him and sighed. “All the parenting books say not to disparage the other parent.”
Craig rolled his eyes. “Uh-huh.”
She still wasn’t ready to tell Craig that Leon wanted full custody—or how much of a criminal his father was.Tell him I knowingly married a crook. What does that makemelook like?So Maggie had avoided the conversation the entire trip. Now she felt like something was rolling through her veins and making her feel queasy in the process. Lying always made her feel sick.
“We need to talk about something that came up last week,” she finally said.
Craig deserved to know. His opinion mattered toher,even if Leon hadn’t asked him what he wanted.
“Is it the part where you tell me the truth about Dad’s job?” Craig sounded far too mature for his years. “Or that he’s trying to cut you out of my life?”
“Maybe…?” She glanced at Craig, trying to figure out how to tell him not to antagonize his father.
Would hereallyhurt his own son?
Then, a terrible snapping noise in the general area of her engine made her pause. Or maybe it was more that itfeltlike a snap. She couldn’t explain it, but the brakes were squishy all of a sudden.
“Fuck.”
The brakes weren’t working. The SUV started going faster and faster. Mashing down the pedal did nothing to slow them down.Leon, you bastard!She knew her ex was lower than a possum’s belly, but she’d thought he’d care enough to not hurt Craig.
“Mom!” Craig yelled.
“Hold on!” Margaret knew with certainty that this was how they would die if she didn’t do something, and what felt like a protective bubble oozed out of her, trying to encase her body. She swore she could see it.I don’t want to live if Craig dies.She shoved the bubble at him.
“Slow down!” Craig begged-asked-ordered.
“Trying. No brakes,” she said, one hand tight on the wheel as the other fumbled for the emergency brake.
The imaginary bubble she’d shoved out of herself around Craig was now holding him motionless. She couldn’t say how or why, but shefeltit. She felt a sort of barrier that extended from her body to keep him safe.
The edges of the bubble leaked onto her, as if slowing her down, and she shoved it toward her son again.
If they could get around this curve safely, maybe she could try to stop the hurtling speed of the whole vehicle with a second bubble-cushion. If she tried arresting the speednow,they might flip tail over nose.
“Seatbelt tight?” was the last clear thing she was sure she said.
Maggie couldn’t turn the wheel in time, couldn’t get around the curve. There was a clarity, an icicle moment of stabbing comprehension, when she realized there was no way to avoid the accident. They’d gone too close to the berm. The side of the vehicle slammed into a guardrail with a screech of metal sliding along metal. The SUV flipped side-over-top, rolling like one of Craig’s toy cars when he was a toddler.
This is where we die,she thought.
They were careening toward the bottom of a ravine, battered about as thick-needled trees sort of slowed them. They rolled down an embankment and landed with a shudder against a row of old trees. One branch jutted through the back window, and all she could smell was pine sap, overheating engine, and someone’s blood.My blood.She knew with a sudden certainty that Craig was safe. She had always known when he was safe or in peril.Craig isn’t hurt.
