“Like I said,” Pop continues, “it’s just chatter for now. But some of his history is hidden in paperwork—purposeful, I’d wager. I can’t even find his original admittance paperwork for The Program. There’s a lot more to his story.”
“Tell me about it,” I mutter. “Well,” I continue. “I need to talk to him. Immediately.”
“I’ll keep looking,” Pop says with a sigh. “We’ll find him.”
“Honey,” my gram says in a worried voice. “Are you sure talking to him is the best idea? For now, it might be advantageous to keep clear of him. At least until we know we can trust him.”
“I knew him,” I say, watching the road. “I guess... I guess I was friends with him in The Program—that part’s not clear yet. But he was right about Dr. Warren,” I point out. My grandparents go quiet, and I hate that I have to bring up something they lied about. “He told me she was from The Program, and he told me to stop seeing her.”
“Yes,” Pop says. “He was right about that. We made a mistake,” he adds. “Dr. Warren seemed sincere, but we shouldn’t have confided in her. We put you in danger.”
“Yeah, well,” I say. “You thought it was just therapy. None of us knew The Program was still operating.”
“I told her never to call the house again,” my grandmother announces defiantly. I furrow my brow, surprised.
“When?” I ask.
“Dr. Warren called here after you left today. Wanted to ‘chat’ about your last visit. Asked if she could talk to you, but I told her you were at school.”
Shit. Dr. Warren looked for me at home first. She tried to make my grandparents accomplices in my removal. Again.
“She asked if I’d bring you in for therapy,” Gram continues, and I can just about imagine the way her face is stern right now. Her little cheeks bright red with confrontation as she sweeps crumbs from the kitchen table into her open palm.
“And I told her she wasn’t welcome in our lives anymore,” Gram continues. “And that she could take her concerns and shove them up—” She stops, and I hear my grandfather laugh softly.
“Well,” my grandmother says, slightly embarrassed. “I just told her what she could do with her lies,” she finishes.
The idea of my grandmother telling someone to shove their lies up their ass is one for the scrapbook.
“Good for you, Gram,” I say. “We won’t let anyone else manipulate us. Now, Pop,” I say, glancing in my side mirror, feeling paranoid that I might be followed. “How long before you can track Realm down?”
He hums out like he’s thinking, and there’s another swish of papers. “I can try and trace some of the calls that went out of the Adjustment office, but I imagine Marie already tried that.”
Melody suggested Realm hadn’t shown because something had gone wrong. I’m starting to worry she might be right. If we’d really been friends, wouldn’t he have warned me? Stopped Derek from assaulting me? I shiver and push away the images.
“And speaking of Marie,” Pop adds, “you might want to clue her in that Dr. Warren is looking for you. Now—”
I swallow hard. “Yeah,” I say. “About that...” I pull onto a side street and park the Jeep. I take a breath and tell my grandparents what happened at school. I thought I was handling it, but the moment I describe Derek’s hands on me, the feeling of helplessness in a place where I was supposed to be safe, I break down crying. I was so scared. I was so fucking scared of him.
“We need to call the police,” my grandmother yells, frantic. “We—”
“We can’t,” I say. I wipe my cheeks and glance around the neighborhood, making sure no one is watching me now. “Melody—Jana, that’s her real name—she took him somewhere to keep him quiet. She said I’ll have a few days before they send more handlers after me.”
“That is ridiculous,” Gram says, and there’s a smack like she hit her hand on the table. “The police can’t ignore this. I don’t care who they’re involved with.”
“Things have changed, Gram,” I say, scared of the truth in it. “Until The Program is dead and buried, we can’t trust anyone but each other. Do you understand?”
“Tatum,” Pop says, trying to sound calm. “Come home. At least let your grandmother take a look at your head. You could have a concussion.”
“I will,” I say. “Melody told me to act normal, whatever that is. But first, I’m going to swing by the Adjustment office to check if Marie’s there. See if Michael Realm is there. You need to keep looking for him, Pop.”
“I will,” he says.
“Oh, honey,” my grandmother moans, sounding terrified. “Come home.”
“I’m going to be fine, Gram,” I say, my stomach sinking at the worry in her voice. “I promise. I’ll see you both in a little bit.” Although reluctant, they say good-bye, and we hang up.
I sit a moment in the quiet of my Jeep. My skin prickles with leftover fear. I don’t ever want to experience anything like that again. I’ve already had it happen twice. And I need to make sure it never happens to anyone else.
