‘Did you?’
‘No!’
‘I mean it. If you say anything to anyone about the demon again, I won’t let you play with those kids anymore. I’ll lock you in here all day on your own.’ Riley looks into his eyes. ‘Do you understand?’
‘But—’ he says, fresh tears welling up.
Riley shakes him again. ‘Tell me you understand.’
After a moment, he nods, scrubbing his eyes with a fist.
In the morning he won’t speak to her. He looks at her with resentment over the rag doll he’s shoved into his mouth. Riley lets him be. He gets over these things eventually.
Noon sets Riley to watch the gate again.
‘They sometimes come back,’ she says. ‘Nothing like human optimism.’
Riley sits yawning by the gate in the warm afternoon. Her body remembers the places Cal touched her last night, and where she touched him. The sun and these thoughts join together and she drifts.
There’s a sound from the other side of the gate like the scratching of wood on wood. Riley sits up slowly and puts her eye to a hole in the gate.
The broken-antlered deer stands in the centre of the road. He rubs against a low branch, scratching. The antler is growing back, Riley thinks, but it’s thin like a question mark. She’s glad to see he’s doing ok.
‘No want go,’ says a little voice behind her. The deer leaps away. Riley turns. Whitey is there in her long white dress. The hem is brown and tired, it drags on the dusty road.
‘Hey,’ Riley says. ‘Pick up your skirt, keep it out of the dirt.’ The dress has intricate embroidery at the neck; it’s linen, Riley thinks, long and flowing like an old-fashioned nightdress.
Whitey doesn’t seem to hear. She shuffles forward, dress trailing. She reaches longing arms towards Riley and makes a little peeping sound. ‘Up.’
‘I’m not carrying you.’ Riley doesn’t care about the dress that much. ‘What are you doing here all by yourself?’ She’s not keen on kids in general but Whitey makes her sad. Even her name is odd, like someone forgot to give her one then looked at that white hair and thought,that’ll do.Riley thinks, at times, that she can see Noon in Whitey’s serious expression.
‘No go,’ she says in that reedy voice. Riley realises that she has never heard Whitey talk before. Whitey lunges towards Riley, reaching with both arms. Her foot catches in the billowing white gown and she lands on all fours on the cracked asphalt. She crouches there, back heaving. She starts to cry.
Riley climbs down the stack of boulders to the road.
‘Hey,’ she says to Whitey. ‘It’s ok. We just get up again.’ She picks her up out of the dust.
‘No go away,’ Whitey whispers.
‘No,’ Riley says, looking into her forlorn face. ‘I won’t.’ Whitey makes to put her arms around Riley’s neck and she feels a strange warmth. But it’s not a hug. Whitey’s hands close about Riley’s neck. They squeeze. It’s impossible, the strength in her little hands. Riley chokes and grabs at them, but the small fingers are like steel. Her vision starts to cloud. Riley shoves Whitey away hard, so she falls again on the dusty broken-up asphalt, hitting her back hard. She bursts into tears. Riley goes to help her up again but she jumps up and runs. Her scream is high and cracked; it sounds like it could pierce the rock.
Riley watches her run up the overgrown road back towards HomeBarn, heart pounding. Riley can’t help thinking – what if that had been Oliver, whose throat she had her hands around?
When Riley reaches Home Barn, Whitey is hugging Noon’s legs and crying. She whispers into Noon’s ear. Noon’s gaze is on Riley like a dagger.
‘Why would you hurt a child?’ Noon’s voice is cold. Riley has never seen her angry.
‘I didn’t mean to,’ Riley says. ‘She was – I guess she was playing. She had her hands around my neck, I couldn’t breathe. I was just trying to get free.’
Noon takes a deep breath. ‘Have you been struggling recently, Riley? Mentally?’
‘No,’ Riley says. Noon’s face changes under her eyes; now it is so full of disappointment, as if Riley has just told her a lie.
Oliver is looking at her from the corner of the barn. Riley hadn’t seen him there. He comes forward slowly, eyes big. Riley holds out her arms to him, but he reaches for Noon instead.
‘Oliver,’ she says blankly. ‘Oliver Olive, what are you doing?’ He looks like he’s scared of her.
‘You don’t like children, do you, Riley? Midnight told me.’
