“Connor, sweetheart. Put down the book. You have to listen to what Mrs. Lourie is saying now, okay?” I tried to take it gently from him, but he snatched it away, glaring at me.
“It’s all right.” Sheryl shifted in her seat, clearing her throat. She was uncomfortable, that much was clear. “Maybe Connor can listen while he reads at the same time.”
This was a terrible idea, Connor needed to pay attention, to process the information being explained to him, but I couldn’t contradict her. Sheryl was in charge. She must have done this before, surely? I tried not to acknowledge the angry look Connor shot my way, and turned my attention to Amie. She was sitting quietly, kicking her heels lightly against the sofa, looking back and forth between Sheryl and me, her tiny eyebrows banked together with concern. She knew something was up, just as Connor did.
“So, you remember how Mommy went away last year?” Sheryl continued hesitantly. Amie sniffed and leaned her head against my arm.
“She went to heaven,” the little girl said softly. “She went to be with Oscar.”
Sheryl looked up at me sharply. Oscar? I shook my head. I had no idea.
“Oscar was our dog,” Connor murmured, head still down, eyes on the page in front of him. “He got hit by a car.”
“I see,” Sheryl said again. “Yes. So your mommy went to be with Oscar. Well, that’s where Daddy’s gone as well. To be with Mommy and Oscar. Do you know what that means?”
Connor went absolutely still. Amie made a short puffing sound, eyes traveling from me to Sheryl again. “He’s not coming back?” she whispered. “Why?”
“Because he’s dead,” Connor snapped. “He died. He left us, just like she left us. I knew he wasn’t coming back!”
“Your daddy had an accident.” Sheryl pressed on, hands clasped in her lap, twisting her wedding ring around and around her finger, nails painted a very outlandish color of burnt orange. “And that means he can’t come back.”
Amie’s bottom lip was wobbling. Her eyes were filling with tears of confusion, her little body shaking next to mine. She pressed herself against me, and my heart nearly cracked in two when she looked up at me and a choked sob slipped from her mouth. “I don’t want Daddy to go with Mommy,” she wailed.
Connor still hadn’t moved. “It’s tough luck, Amie. We don’t get a say in it. We don’t get a say in anything. Right?” His eyes flickered up, fixing on Sheryl. She seemed stunned by the blunt, hard words coming out of Connor’s mouth. They stunned me, too. No seven-year-old should have had such a stark outlook on life. “I’m afraid not,” Sheryl confirmed. “Sometimes these things happen to people, and no one gets a say in the matter. I know it’s hard. I know it’s sad, but—”
“It’s not sad,” Connor snarled. “He wanted to go and be with her. I know he did. I heard him say it. He told Dr. Fielding. He didn’t want to be with us anymore. He left on purpose. I hate him. I hate him!”
Jumping up from the sofa, Connor rocketed out of the room, his book tumbling to the floor. I tried to disentangle myself from Amie, to go after him, but Sheryl reached out and put a hand on my knee.
“Best we give him a moment, I think,” she said.
Collecting Amie into my arms, I held her against me, rocking her back and forth while she cried. I wanted to disagree with Sheryl—being alone seemed like the worst possible thing for a grieving child who’d just been told their father was dead—but again, Sheryl knew best. And I couldn’t just leave Amie.
“I’m sorry,” Sheryl said. “I’d normally take a lot longer over something like this, but time really is of the essence. I can’t get stuck on the island, and the man on the boat was rather rude. He said he’d wait an hour for me and no longer. Do you think we could gather up some of the children’s things? We can arrange for the rest of their belongings to be sent over to the mainland if and when we find homes for them to go to.”
“I’m sorry? Homes? You haven’t already found a place for them to go? Together?”
Sheryl inched forward on her chair, pulling her lips into a tight line.
“Mr. Fletcher only…moved on…yesterday, Miss Lang. Rehoming children is a process. It’s probable that we’ll find somewhere for Amie to go in a couple of months. Connor’s older, so it might be a little more difficult to place him. Also, his…behavioral issues might make it harder to find a family equipped to provide the attention and care he needs.”
They weren’t going to be kept together? They weren’t going to find homes for months? I hadn’t even considered something like this might happen. God, how could I have been so na?ve? I felt sick, all of a sudden. Sicker than I had already been feeling for the past twenty-four hours. “Where will you take them, then? Now? When you get off the boat?”