“Is everything all right?” Caleb asks.
She forces a smile. She only has to benicefor a little while longer, until Graham comes. “I’m fine.”
“How’s your foot today?”
“It seems all right. I took the gauze off.”
“Good. And your wrist?”
The skin is darkening like a winter sky, but she doesn’t want to show him. “Can’t do anything about bruises,” she says, and stalks ahead to the backyard.
“Listen,” Caleb says, catching up to her. “I know this is a scary time for you. Thrown in with a couple of strangers in a hostile town, right after you’ve left a bad relationship. You probably feel pretty powerless. I know I did, when—” He presses his lips together. “But if it helps, I want you to know you did the right thing, to leave. That took courage.”
It’s easy to be honest with him, now that she’s going. “It didn’t feel like courage.” Only desperation. But maybe that’s what courage is, doing the thing anyway, even though the blood pounds under your skin so hard you shake.
“It still was. I admire you for it. I wish I’d had it.”
Sarah cranes her neck up at the woods.If you disappeared, no one could hurt you anymore, the trees seem to whisper as they sway in the wind.You wouldn’t have to figure out who to trust. You can trust us.
Cottony clumps of snow float off the branches, so gently it’s almost as if it’s snowing again. She realizes she’s never seen Caleb walk into the woods, only Elijah. Maybe Caleb knows if he goes in, he’ll never come out. Like his father and the other victims of the Suicide Motel.
“You did the right thing, too,” she says. She wonders if anyone ever told him that. Probably not. Maybe no one believed that Jacob Vass was hurting his sons, despite the evidence. There are so many ways for a pair of rambunctious boys to get hurt in the country. “You came back for Elijah.”
“I hope you’re right,” he says, looking down at his hands.
“I actually wanted to talk to you about him.”
He frowns. “Why?”
“He’s such a gifted artist. I don’t think he belongs here.”
“Elijah’s better off here. Trust me.”
“Where he has bad memories? You must, too. You don’t need to stay.”
His jaw hardens. “This house belonged to Mom’s family. I can’t let Dad chase us away. It means he wins.”
“You could at least let Elijah exhibit his work outside of Sweetside.”
“I need him to help me with the motel.”
“You could find someone else.”
Caleb’s nostrils flare. “I told you, they treat us like outsiders here. We’re the town weirdos, and no one wants to work at the Suicide Motel. Our last housekeeper only stayed as long as she did because she was friends with Mom.”
“Hire someone from outside of town.”
“Why would anyone outside of town want to live in Sweetside?” He spins to face her. “Wouldyouwant to stay here?”
She knows it’s a hypothetical question, but it knocks the breath out of her lungs. She freezes, her eyes locked with his.
The sound of a car pulling up out front interrupts her answer.
Graham. Finally. He must’ve gotten lost, or delayed by his students. Sarah turns away from Caleb and rushes around the house, shoulders slumping with relief because she would’ve said yes. If Caleb asked her to stay again with those blue, blue eyes, she would say yes.
She falls back when she sees the black and white of a police cruiser.
Caleb comes up behind her, so close his breath skims her ear as he swears. “Shit.” Then he strides forward. “Uncle Isaac!”
