Henry’s brow pinches unsurely.
“It’s okay,” I say.“I’ll be just outside.”
“Alright,” he nods finally.“Thanks, Venus.”
We head in opposite directions.I fiddle with my rings as I retrace my steps to the main lobby.
This is my fault.I’m responsible for Olly getting hurt.He’s hurt because of me.It could’ve been worse.
I’m overcome with sudden, sharp regret.Henry and Olly wanted me to keep them safe on their first campout.I should’ve told Olly not to wander without us, not to climb trees, not to be like me.
I practice my Ins and Outs, fighting against the unfair energy surging within me, telling me to run.I’ve promised Henry to supply snacks—a task I latch onto to keep me from racing out the sliding doors.I can do that, at least.
The lobby is slightly busier than when we first entered.I navigate the chairs and the people for the vending machines in the corner, contemplating the options.Once I have a packet of gummy bears and a cold soda in hand, I search for a salty option.But it’s hard to think.
I notice Olly’s blood smeared on my trembling fingers between my rings and under my nails.My heart races, imagining his sneakers slipping from under him, the small branch he held onto breaking, and his head and arm smacking against the protruding root.I picture the fracture in his arm, his small bones breaking, his tears and cries.
Maggie’s words fromthathorrible night long ago stream into my desperate imaginings.All Venus ever does is hurt Henry.A sob escapes me—it’s true for HenryandOlly now.
Logic tells me that Olly’s okay, accidents happen, and his body will heal with time.But the mark will remain, hiding under skin and muscle, etched into his bone.He willalwayshave it.
And I’ll know it’s there—another mark against me, wrecking my confidence and proving that I don’t belong with them.
I belong alone.
My hand shakes as I type in the final code for a bag of chips.Gathering the items in my arms, I turn to see Maggie and Fred rushing into the lobby.Her brown hair is pulled into a messy ponytail at the nape of her neck.She’s not wearing any makeup, and her wrinkled jeans and barely tied sneakers reveal that Henry’s call surely pulled her from bed.Her hands twist around the strap of her purse, hanging diagonally over her chest.
She looks panicked, hurting for Olly and Henry.My agony compounds, especially when her eyes catch mine and narrow with disappointment.Her expression repeats what she used to say when I was a child.Accidents happen… especially around you, Venus.
Tears spill as my frustration rises.I feel like a child again, begging Maggie for time with Henry after getting him in trouble or causing him asthmatic distress.
Always at a disadvantage.
Always on the outside.
Always hurting.
Her arms fold as I approach—armor against the invasive species threatening her family.
“Venus, everything okay?”Fred asks, his lined brow etched with concern.“Henry said Olly’s fine.What’s upset you, honey?”
“I-I…” I should apologize, shoulder the blame as I did with Carly.Perhaps if I explain it properly, we’ll all find comfort in the present facts rather than dwelling on past mistakes.Fact—Olly is a human with freewill, which he exercised this morning.Fact—I would never have permitted or encouraged him to climb a tree without an adult present.Fact—Henry and Olly don’t hold me accountable for his mistake.
But logic fails under the crushing weight of Maggie’s disapproval—she looks anxious and exhausted, as if my return is akin to a prison sentence and she has to spend more decades worrying about her son and grandson in my presence.
“I knew something like this would happen,” she says, almost under her breath.
“Mags,” Fred says softly, flashing surprise at her.“It’s not Venus’s fault.”
But it is.
The daggers of guilt and shame cut deeper, twisting at the hilts.This is Venus.She’s brilliant but…
I push the snacks and drink into Fred’s hands.
“Olly’s getting an X-ray.Caloric intake will, um, alleviate gastrointestinal discomfort from the pain medicine,” I say through gasping sobs.“I-I have to go.”
I twist on my boots and race through the double doors.
