“It’s my fault,” he said.“That’s why they took me away.Because of me.And you know what, Tean?I look at you, and I see how much you hate your parents, and I don’t want to hate her.I don’t want to be like you.”
He pulled the door shut behind him, and it closed with a click.
33
Tean sat on the couch.He wasn’t sure how he got there.The fire was hot, and inside his coat, he was sweating, but all of that was on the periphery.Inside, he watched the way bees swarmed.They rose together, but not quite all together.The tail of the swarm followed a beat after.There was the slightest lag as the signal moved from front to back.
The fire made his eyes dry.His cheeks felt tight, like after a sunburn.
His shoes were dripping on the carpet, so he unlaced them and pulled them off.The movement unlocked something inside him.He pulled off the coat and hung it in the closet.That was better.He could think now that he wasn’t so hot.He lay on the bed.The light coming in, bouncing off the snow, made the room bright.He closed his eyes.
Brigitte.
Stephen.
Maeve and Milo.
Someone had killed Gerald.Someone had used Gerald’s cane to kill him.Someone had taken Gerald’s phone and gun.And then they’d broken into the chalet to steal Gerald’s briefcase.Something had upset Gerald Friday morning, and whatever it was, there was evidence, and the killer had needed to remove the evidence.Someone had killed Gerald.Someone had used Gerald’s cane to kill him.Someone had taken Gerald’s phone—
He went around and around.
Stephen and Brigitte were stealing from Gerald.Stephen was Brigitte’s son.Older than Jem?No, younger.Because Jem didn’t have any memory of a brother, which meant Stephen had most likely been born after Jem had been taken away—
Jem.
Tean squeezed his eyes shut.He breathed slowly, his belly filling and emptying.
Maeve and Milo had been in the chalet all day Saturday.With Brigitte.Sometime that afternoon, they’d gone missing.Someone had taken them.Someone had taken them from their mother.
Like Jem.
His face prickled with a flush.His breaths were wet, and he couldn’t get enough air.
Tean focused on facts.Assemble the facts.Use your brain.Think.
Only hecouldn’tthink, because the inside of his head was still that dark mess of wires, sparking every time they accidentally brushed each other.Useless sparks.Flashes of images that didn’t help.Jem steepling his hands over his nose.Jem bending at the waist, saying,Oh my God.The way Jem’s eyes had filled with tears.
Because of Tean.
Because Tean had hurt him.Had known how to hurt him.Had been so angry that he’d needed to hurtsomeone.Anyone.
His phone buzzed in his pocket.
Tean touched it through the fabric, ready to silence it without looking at who was calling.But maybe it was Jem.He drew it out.On the screen, it said DAD.
One second turned into two.
The phone was still buzzing in his hand.
Two seconds turned into three.
Vibrations worked their way through the heel of his hand.
He dismissed the call and dropped the phone on the bed.
But in his head, he answered.
What do you want?
