The Creeping

“You wouldn’t have been out there if not for us.” A tremor builds in his voice. “Me and Daniel. We’re the ones who got you so comfortable going into the forest. If we hadn’t, you and Jeanie would have stuck to the front yard. You don’t know, Stella. Jeanie goes missing and everyone’s parents and the cops are talking to kids about staying away from strangers. Parents get carried away and they scare the shit out of their kids.” He looks frightened now. “Most clam up. They worry about getting in trouble for playing in the woods. But some talk. You don’t remember, but kids were going to school counselors and teachers for almost a year after, crying about how they saw Bloody Mary in the mirror or a ghost in the woods who must have taken Jeanie. The whole town needed therapy or meds after it happened. Daniel and I were afraid that everyone would know what we suspected: It was our fault.”


I’m on my knees at his feet in a flash. “You were a kid. It’s not your fault.” I force his hands from his lap and hold them in mine. “You had chicken pox, and I was the one with Jeanie. I’m the one who couldn’t help her. I’m the one who didn’t remember.”

Caleb goes gradually still. “Didn’t? Do you remember Jeanie’s dad hurting her?”

I sit on the coffee table so our heads are level and close. I don’t know why I feel the need to whisper in my living room. “It wasn’t him, Caleb. I’ve been getting flashes from that day. Not of who or what took her. Not yet.” Cold fingers grope at my heart as I voice how inevitable I believe it is that I will remember. “Do you ever talk to Daniel?”

Caleb shrugs. “Not really since we were kids. He was sent away, you know. Maybe off and on each time he’d come back to town.”

“Could you talk to him, for me?” I ask, scooting to the edge of the coffee table until our knees touch. “Could you remind him about what you overheard his dad and the other ranger saying? I don’t know why he told the police he thinks his dad is guilty, but if one of us could just talk to him about hunting in the woods . . . Maybe he’s too afraid to face what he suspects really happened? Just talk to him and get him to call me. He might listen to you, since you were friends.” He looks away. “Please, Caleb. Jeanie deserves better than this.”

There’s something in his eyes I can’t identify as they move back to me.

“What?” I ask.

“The way you just said her name . . . I’ve heard you and Zo talk about her in the past.” He pauses and I brace myself. “You aren’t talking about her like she’s gum stuck to the bottom of your shoe anymore.”

I want to cover my face in shame. “The more I think of Jeanie, the clearer my sense of her becomes; it’s like my idea of her is being distilled over and over again.” I shake my head, frustrated. “She was this black-and-white outline to me before.”

His hand covers mine, resting on my knee. “And now she’s being colored in. I get it. And yes, I’ll try to find Daniel and talk to him.”

I sink back on my spine. “I’m glad you came over. I miss you. You’re like my less bitchy best friend,” I add with a grin.

He presses his lips to the crown of my head as he rocks up from the chair to leave. “You’re my less bitchy little sister.”





Chapter Twenty-Six


Dad actually comes home—by five, no less—and bumps around the kitchen making enchiladas. Dinner is more awkward than normal given Sam’s recent sleepover (the one Dad knows about) and my little outburst at the courthouse yesterday.

“It’s normal to have a difficult time accepting resolution,” Dad says after serving himself a second helping of Spanish rice. “Don’t beat yourself up. You’ll need time to adjust.”

I nod agreeably like I usually do with Dad, but on second thought . . . “It would help if you were home at night more,” I say. He stops mid-bite and stares at me. “I miss you, and I’ll be leaving for college next year.”

He places his fork down and removes his wire-rimmed glasses. He thumbs his chin in the way he does whenever he’s puzzling something out. “I have been working a lot lately. I guess I’ve been trying to cope with your mother remarrying.”

I move the food around on my plate listlessly. “I know. But I am too.”

He reaches across the table for my hand. “You’re one hundred percent right, Pumpkin. It’ll take some creativity, but I’ll cut back. Maybe we can finally find time to go furniture shopping like we’ve been talking about? I can get to know the Worth boy again. That is, if you think I should.”

“I don’t think he’s going to come over anymore. I said something and I don’t think he’ll forgive me,” I admit.

“Sure he will. Who wouldn’t forgive you anything? How about once you two are better I’ll make dinner for the three of us? You pick the night and I’ll make it happen.”