Maybe that’s what Emma feared—another fight that would never end.
Leo had pushed hard on every front to get something, any thing, that would help them find this one island in the thousands of islands off the coast of Maine. In all the conversations with the Pratts and the boatman, the groceries and packages he delivered, the lobster boats and sailboats and motorboats all off in the distance—was there not one name of a harbor or a yacht club? Cass said she had tried to find out where they were. She’d asked questions; she’d sifted through garbage. The Pratts were very careful. And all she could recount from the boats were names she could see on the larger sails, Hood and Doyle and Hobie Cat. Abby could see her face as she said the words over and over: “I tried! Every minute of every day, I tried!” She said the island felt enormous to her, like everyone saw it and knew it, only they were never close enough to see her, or hear her. It had felt unique to her, this prison, and so she always imagined it would be easily found. She knew the town where she got in the truck. She had counted the minutes to Portland. Abby’s impression was that she was telling the truth.
Cass had also insisted that the story of that first year and her first attempt to escape were important, and so they had let her tell it. She said it explained how she came to understand how difficult it would be to leave, and why it took so long. She said it explained how she came to know that the boatman would eventually help her find her way home, but that it would take time. And planning. But the story would not be finished before Judy made them leave, so Abby arrived home with more questions than answers.
She went to the kitchen and fed the dog. Then she opened the fridge. She took out some leftover pasta and put it in the microwave. She felt sick and was hoping it was from hunger. She hadn’t been able to eat all day.
At a small table in the corner, she set down the plate and a glass of water. Then she pulled out her phone. There were three texts from Meg, which she’d answered dismissively throughout the day. She removed her sister from her thoughts and played the recording she’d made of the interview with Cass.
She started it where Cass had left off in the morning.
“I wanted to leave the morning after we arrived. I only slept for three hours and twenty minutes that first night and when I did, it was short, like an hour at a time, and then I would wake up in a panic. I heard the lobster boats—though I didn’t know what kind of boats they were at the time—they were trolling some time after the sun came up. It sounded like a faraway hum. I got up and looked out the window. I could see Emma in her room and I started to cry. She rushed out of her room and came to mine and sat on my bed. ‘I want to go home!’ I told her. That was when she told me she was pregnant, and that we couldn’t go home, at least not right away. She said Bill would take care of us and that we would have a good life there. I got very angry with her, I yelled at her and she yelled back, telling me she wouldn’t let me mess up her plan to have her baby.
“I already told you that in my mind I had to choose between Emma and home. And so I chose Emma.”
Judy barged into her story then. “But three years, Cass? You chose to stay for three years? Tell us why you couldn’t leave. You still haven’t explained it.”
Cass continued.
“It’s hard to explain. I think there are two reasons we stayed. First, while the days went by slowly sometimes, the years went by fast. There is something about living that close to the ocean, surrounded by the water, that changes time. Hours can pass just staring at the waves and feeling the wind on your face. And there is so much work to deal with the wind and the water, to keep it from ruining a house, especially without regular electricity.
“Second, there were the good things I’ve been trying to explain. Emma talked to me more and more. We became friends and I didn’t want that to end. Not ever. Sometimes I thought about how much I wanted to be home. But then there were these other things, like being close to Emma and how nice Lucy and Bill were to us. So there were these good things and the time passing so fast … but then the bad things started to come, after Emma had her baby.
“They wouldn’t let me near her when it was happening. She went to them first, in the middle of the night, because she was still very close to them and she trusted them. I didn’t even wake up until I heard Emma screaming. I could also hear Bill yelling at Lucy and Lucy yelling back like they were both scared and angry at the other for not making it easier. I thought she was going to die. I really did. There was so much screaming—and it was screaming from pain that was coming out of Emma. Like she was being tortured. And in between the screaming from pain, there was crying and sobbing from desperation because she knew it wasn’t over. And I couldn’t help her! I tried to go to her, but Bill pushed me out of the room, with both hands and this red face that looked like it was on fire. Emma yelled at me, too. She told me to leave because I would only make it worse. It went on for most of the night until finally it just stopped. I sobbed into my pillow because it was so terrible. Not being able to help her. Not being wanted for my help. And not knowing if she was even going to be okay.
“And then I heard the baby cry. And I heard Bill and Lucy laughing and crying like they were happy now. I went to the hallway so I could hear more, but I didn’t hear anything from Emma. Not that whole night or the next morning. Nothing until the next afternoon.
“That’s when they took Emma back to her room. She tried to sleep, but her breasts got huge and swollen. She asked if she should breast-feed and they said not to bother. Lucy said it wasn’t that good for babies anyway, and Emma didn’t know any better.
“I stayed outside her door so I could get her whatever she needed. ‘Cass,’ she would whisper, ‘it hurts so much!’ I brought her ice packs every few hours to keep on her chest, and after a few days the milk just stopped coming.
“From that first cry, Lucy had that baby all day and all night. When Emma tried to hold her, Lucy said not to bother. She said Emma should rest and study because she had her whole life ahead of her. She said, ‘That’s what we’re here for, my love!’
“‘Cass,’ Emma would whisper, ‘have you seen her today? Is she bigger?’
“Emma cried for hours and hours, missing her baby. ‘I need to hold her! Please! Just for a few minutes!’ she would beg. Lucy always had an excuse. The baby was sleeping. The baby was sick. The baby was getting used to her bed. Emma would hear her cry and she would stand outside their locked bedroom door and yell at them. ‘Please! I hear her now. I know she’s awake! Bring her to me!’
“Emma pleaded with me then. ‘Cass, you have to find out what’s going on. Why they won’t let me see her!’