This Might Hurt

A few seconds later, my sister responds, “Kit here. Go ahead.”

“It’s Raeanne. I’ve got your sister with me in the garden. Caught her nosing around the forest.” She flashes daggers at me. “Where do you want me to bring her?”

“I’ll be there in five.” Kit sounds annoyed.

“Roger that.” Raeanne puts the walkie-talkie back in her pocket, crosses her arms, and glowers at me. The wind punches us over and over.

We wait in tense silence, me glancing everywhere but Raeanne’s face while her volcanic glare bores into me. My sister appears a few minutes later.

“Thanks, Rae. I’ll take it from here.”

Raeanne shakes her head and lopes away.

My sister frowns at me. “What were you doing in the forest?”

I finger the phone in my pocket. “I got lost trying to find my way around.”

She stares at me, suspicious.

“What’s that schoolhouse in the woods?”

“Keep your voice down,” she says, making sure no one overheard. We walk toward the cabins. I expect the heavens to open any second, but still no rain. Gordon was right about the storm. We stop at number four. Kit lets us inside, watching me. My stomach buzzes at the thought of being alone with my sister. This is the chance I’ve been waiting for.

Her room looks the same as it did when I was snooping yesterday. “When did you become a neat freak?”

“That’s all you have to say to me?” She bows her head, collects herself. “You can’t wander around, trespassing wherever you like. Some of the staff are already pissed you’re here.”

I sit on her bed. “Gordon?”

She nods, tucking her feet under her on the chair.

“He told me this morning that the storm won’t hit until tomorrow or the day after. Insisted the water was perfectly safe to travel today. When I told him what you told me, he said, and I quote, ‘Kit is not a sailor.’?”

“He doesn’t know what he’s talking about. I’ve driven the boat plenty of times.”

“I sense some animosity between you two.”

“He was Teacher’s right hand for years. And then I got here.” The corners of her lips twitch.

“Kit, weird shit is happening on this island. These people are either crazy or dangerous or both. How can you work alongside them?”

She crosses her arms with a stony expression.

I gesticulate at the window. “There are no blinds in any of the cabins.”

“We don’t keep secrets here.” She gazes outside. “Removing the blinds was my idea.”

My eyes bug out. I’d thought my sister was a foot soldier blindly obeying orders. Now, as I consider the walkie-talkie she’s been given, the classes she leads, her access to Rebecca, I recognize with horror how quickly she’s moved up the ladder, how high her perch actually is.

“What’s your plan, Kit? To live here indefinitely?”

“I don’t know.” She tenses. “It’s freeing not to have every day planned within an inch of its life.”

“Plenty of careers allow for spontaneity in the day-to-day.” She opens her mouth to protest, so I speed up. “I know it’s not only about the work. You love not being tethered to technology. So set limits on your phone use, leave your laptop off all weekend, spend Saturdays hiking or hanging out at the beach instead of watching TV. You want fewer responsibilities? Come live with me. Did you know I moved to Boston?” Her eyes widen. “No, you didn’t, even though I texted you about it a bunch of times, begging you to visit.”

She peers at me. “Why Boston?”

I pick at my thumbnail. “Same reason you went to New York. I wanted to get away from all the memories of Mom. Boston was the only branch that had an opening for a strategist, so that’s where I transferred.”

“Do you like it there?”

No, I think. “Yeah,” I say, and take a breath before rattling off the pitch I’ve prepared. “We can rent a two-bedroom apartment. I’ll pay the bills until you find work that makes you happy.” To have a friend, let alone my sister, in my adopted city is almost more than I can hope for. I lean over to grab Kit’s hand, but she twists away from my touch. “Your friends miss you. I miss you.”

Kit shakes her head. “You don’t get it. I am happy. Wisewood is what makes me happy.”

“You’re seriously going to stay here long-term?” Visions of Friday night Parks and Rec binges fade. “What about dating or starting a family of your own? That stuff used to matter to you. Does it not anymore?”

She clears her throat. “Not really.”

My heart bangs in my chest. She doesn’t care about anything more than Wisewood. I don’t know where to go from here, have no idea how to change her mind.

“You’re not going to change my mind, Nat. This is not an indictment of you. You don’t know how glad I am to see you, even though you’ve gotten me in trouble.”

“Then why haven’t you called or texted a single time in the past six months? Gordon told me the guests are allowed to reach out to family members.”

“I wasn’t trying to hurt you, but I knew we’d end up having this conversation. I wasn’t ready to have it then. Teacher thought you might try to change my mind, and then I’d head back to the outside world with you and be totally miserable. I know you think I’m a selfish brat for choosing to be here, but this is the most content I’ve been in my entire life. I don’t know how to make you understand.”

“What’s so great about this woman, anyway? I have yet to see her.”

“That’s because she’s tied up with a new project.” Kit’s eyes shine. “She’ll change your outlook on life, Nat.”

“She has all of you jumping through hoops. Some of the people here seem brainwashed.” Like you, I don’t add.

Kit grimaces. “Scientists have proven it’s not possible to empty a person’s head against their will. You can’t take over someone’s mind. Brainwashing is a concept popularized by Hollywood. The idea gives family members permission to blame an outside authority instead of their loved ones.”

Exactly what someone who has been brainwashed would say.

“Everyone at Wisewood has made this commitment of their own free will. No one’s being coerced into anything.”

“Just because she’s not holding a gun to your head doesn’t mean she’s not planting ideas in your mind.”

“We want new ideas to be planted in our minds! That’s the whole point of a self-improvement program.”

“I’ve gotta be honest, Kit.” I pause. “Wisewood sounds like a cult.”

She works her jaw for a minute. “?‘Cult’ is a derogatory label that society puts on a group of people whose beliefs they either don’t understand or don’t agree with.”

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