All those weeks Mr. Hanson had joined her family on search parties, trudging through forests, wading along the banks of rivers and marshes, and even searching the nearby Amish land, hoping to find some sign of Lily. Mr. Hanson had even organized grief-counseling sessions after school for the entire student body.
Sometimes he’d stop by her house and sit on the porch with her father, smoking cigars, quoting Faulkner as platitudes. And that fucker… he’d even sponsored student council fund-raisers for that goddamn memorial Abby had to pass every day for two years. Endless days she’d spent trudging through the halls, feeling lost without her other half, always seeing Lily’s happy face staring back at her. But she’d been grateful to Mr. Hanson. Grateful that he’d never treated her as if she was crazy. Grateful that he’d always shown her such kindness. He’d stop by her locker every so often.
“We’re all here for you, Abby,” Mr. Hanson had told her. “I know you miss Lily, but she loved you very much. You have to know that.” When everyone else had moved on, hearing it from someone like Mr. Hanson kept her going.
Lily’s voice was growing more and more distant.
“Abby, listen to me, he’s going to jail and I’m here. Don’t leave me, Abby. I’m right here,” Lily said, her voice cracking.
Abby tried to hold on. She tried to keep it together but she was teetering closer and closer to the edge of that damn black hole. The black hole she willingly jumped into, numbing herself with booze and pills and sex. The black hole the doctors spent years trying to free her from, offering various “coping tools.” The black hole Wes and the baby were trying to lure her out of.
It was Mr. Hanson’s voice, so calm and clear and compassionate, that she couldn’t bear now. “Lily was a fighter, wasn’t she? Do you think she’d want you to quit?” Mr. Hanson had said when he visited her in the hospital after her suicide attempt. He’d always talked about Lily as if he knew her. As if he understood their bond.
All the while, he was keeping her. Keeping Lily. Killing Abby from the inside out. Murdering her sweet, kind father. Turning her mother into some weak, needy, desperate woman. Destroying any happiness their family might have had, piece by piece. She owed Lily so much more, but this darkness was what Abby knew best. She wanted the black hole to take her. She wanted to escape the truth about Mr. Hanson. Abby was still thrashing about when she felt the merciful prick of the EMT’s needle, and then she slowly, gratefully drifted away.
CHAPTER TWELVE
EVE
Eve sat breathless, watching as Rick Hanson, Lancaster’s most respected teacher and someone she’d considered a friend, was led out in handcuffs. It couldn’t be, Eve thought. Maybe Lily had made a mistake. There was no way. It couldn’t be Rick Hanson.
Rick was the girls’ favorite teacher. He was everyone’s favorite teacher. She remembered when he’d come to town years ago, all the moms in carpool gossiping about him, wondering if a man who looked like that could possibly be a decent teacher. Eve liked him instantly; his enthusiasm for his students’ success was apparent. After Lily was taken, he’d been so supportive, always checking in on them, stopping by the hospital after one of Abby’s episodes, delivering homework and well wishes. There had to be some mistake. But then, as if on cue, Sky sat up, her entire body vibrating as she clawed at the window.
“Daddy Rick, come back. Daddy!” Sky wailed and wailed, and all Eve could do was stare out the window, watching as they escorted him to the police cruiser. It was Rick Hanson. He was the man who’d abducted her daughter. This man. Their family friend. He was the one.
Eve tried to calm Sky, but the child’s screams continued. The realization washed over Eve in waves. Her daughter had been raped and impregnated by this monster. Sky was still wailing, and Eve tried in vain to soothe her. “It’ll be okay, Sky. It’s going to be okay. Mommy will be here soon. It’s okay, sweetheart.”
If Rick could hear or see Sky, he didn’t acknowledge her. He moved forward, head held high, no guilt or recrimination on his stoic features. Even when they put him in the squad car, Eve was amazed at how he carried himself—the ease and confidence of a man who’d been wronged.