SHE ASKED A LOT OF QUESTIONS on the drive home: where I had been, what made me leave, was it really a pregnancy that drove me off. I answered as vaguely as I could, leaving out the parts with the homicidal faeries, of course. Ethan curled up beside me and fell asleep, and soon his faint snores were the only sounds besides the hum of the engine.
Angie finally pulled up alongside a familiar gravel road, and my stomach twisted nervously as I opened the door, pulling Ethan out with me. The sun had gone down, and an owl hooted somewhere overhead. In the distance, a porch light glimmered like a beacon in the twilight.
“I appreciate the ride,” I told Angie, slamming the car door. She nodded, and I made myself say those two little words. “Thank you.” Guilt stabbed me again as I looked at her face. “I’m sorry about…you know.”
She shrugged. “Don’t worry about it. I’m going to a plastic surgeon in a couple weeks. He should take care of it.” She went to put the car in gear, but stopped, turning back to me. “You know,” she said, frowning, “I don’t even remember how it got like this. Sometimes, I think I’ve always been this way, you know? But then, people look at me weird, like they can’t figure it out. Like they’re scared, because I’m so different.” She blinked at me, shadows under her eyes. Her nose seemed to leap off her face. “But you know what that’s like, don’t you?”
I nodded breathlessly. Angie blinked again, like she was seeing me for the first time. “Well, then…” Slightly embarrassed, she waved to Ethan and gave me a brisk nod. “See you around.”
“Bye.” I watched her pull away, her taillights growing smaller and smaller, until they rounded a corner and disappeared. The night suddenly seemed dark and still.
Ethan took my hand, and I looked down at him in concern. He still wasn’t talking. My brother had always been a quiet kid, but this complete, brooding silence was disturbing. I hoped he wasn’t too traumatized by his ordeal.
“Home, kiddo.” I sighed, looking up the long, long driveway. “Think you can make it?”
“Meggie?”
Relieved, I looked down at him. “Yeah?”
“Are you one of Them now?”
I sucked in a breath, feeling as if he had punched me. “What?”
“You look different.” Ethan fingered his ear, gazing up at mine. “Like the bad king. Like one of Them.” He sniffled. “Are you going to live with Them now?”
“Of course not. I don’t belong with Them.” I squeezed his hand. “I’ll live with you and Mom and Luke, just like always.”
“The dark person talked to me. He said I’d forget about Them in a year or two, that I won’t be able to see Them anymore. Does that mean I’ll forget you, too?”
I knelt and looked him in the eye. “I don’t know, Ethan. But, you know what? It doesn’t matter. Whatever happens, we’re still a family, right?”
He nodded solemnly, far too old for his age. Together, we continued walking.
THE OUTLINE OF OUR HOUSE grew larger as we approached. It looked familiar and strange all at once. I could see Luke’s beat-up truck in the driveway, and Mom’s floral curtains waving in the windows. My bedroom was dark and still, but a night-light shone out of Ethan’s room, flickering orange. It made my stomach churn, to think what slept up there. A single light shone in the bottom window, and I picked up my pace.
Mom was asleep on the couch when I opened the door. The television was on, and she held a box of tissues in her lap, one twisted up in her fingers. She stirred when I shut the door behind me, but before I could say anything, Ethan wailed, “Mommy!” and flung himself into her lap.
“What?” Mom jerked awake, startled by the shaking child in her arms. “Ethan? What are you doing downstairs? Did you have a nightmare?”
She glanced up at me then, and her face went pale. I tried for a smile, but my lips wouldn’t work right, and the lump in my throat made it hard to speak. She rose, still holding on to Ethan, and we fell into each other. I sobbed into her neck, and she held me tightly, her own tears staining my cheek.
“Meghan.” At last, she pulled back and looked at me, a spark of anger warring with the relief in her eyes. “Where have you been?” she demanded with a little shake. “We’ve had the police looking for you, detectives, the whole town. No one could find any trace of you, and I’ve been worried sick. Where have you been for three months?”
“Where’s Luke?” I asked, not really knowing why. Maybe I felt that he didn’t need to hear this, that this was between me and Mom alone. I wondered if Luke had even noticed that I was gone. Mom frowned, as if she knew what I was thinking.
“He’s upstairs, asleep,” she replied, pulling back. “I should wake him up, tell him you’ve come home. Every night for the past three months, he’s taken his truck down the back roads, looking for you. Sometimes he doesn’t come home until morning.”