Theo couldn’t even manage that much. Instead he gave her a stiff nod. “Sherry.” That was all he could say. If he tried anything else—an “I’m sorry for your loss,” or even “How are you?”—his guilt and rage would choke him before he could get out more than a word.
Sherry didn’t look offended, though. The last time he’d seen her had been at the funeral, where she’d screamed at him, blaming him for not seeing the signs, not doing anything to stop it. Theo had taken every bit of abuse she’d heaped on him, knowing that he deserved that and more…so much more. Don had been his friend, his mentor, his brother. Theo should’ve known, should’ve at least suspected. What kind of self-involved bubble had he lived in that Don’s misery escaped him so completely?
Except for the downward cast of her mouth, Sherry looked like she always had before. Her blond hair was washed and brushed, pulled back in a neat braid, and her sundress looked new. She appeared like a different person than that pain-wracked mourner at her dad’s funeral.
Now, she just seemed quietly sad. Oddly enough, Theo felt a jolt of envy for that sign of straight-up grief. He wished that was what he felt, rather than this seething mess of angry emotions that was corroding his insides.
“How’s it going?”
How was he supposed to answer that? Quite shittily, thank you for asking. I’ve even managed to fuck up your dad’s dog. How are you? Swallowing the words, Theo twitched one shoulder in a shrug. When Sherry’s mouth flattened, he knew it had come off as callous and uncaring rather than the truth: that he was so locked up by regret he couldn’t even talk to her.
It was Sherry’s turn to offer a jerky nod. “See you around, Theo.”
He watched her go into the diner, his guilt multiplying into a giant churning mass so huge it felt as if his skin couldn’t contain it. Clenching and unclenching his fists as the urge to punch something—or someone—surged through him, he stalked the rest of the way to his squad car and jerked open the door.
His bad day had somehow, magically, become so much worse.
*
“Maybe we could be homeschooled?” Ty asked hopefully.
As the five of them stared at the two-story building, a mustard yellow box with just a few narrow windows on each corner, Jules was tempted to agree. Then she thought about the reality of trying to teach her siblings—especially Tio—and she sighed.
“C’mon, y’all.” She shoved the driver’s door open with more confidence than she felt. “Dez, you too.” Even though just a few people were around, and the few extra-early students were headed into the school, Jules didn’t want Dez to be left alone. It was going to be hard enough having them out of her sight for the whole day while they were in school.
Ty groaned, but Tio got out of the backseat more enthusiastically. Sam didn’t say anything, but Jules could feel his tension. If he’d been drawn any tighter, Sam would’ve snapped like an overstressed steel cable. Catching his sleeve—but being careful not to grab his arm—she held him back a few steps, allowing the twins and Dez to walk slightly ahead of them.
“Dennis is good at what he does,” she said very quietly, so that only Sam could hear. “We have new names, new social security numbers, new ages, new lives.”
Sam stared straight ahead, the muscle in his jaw working.
“She won’t find us.” She looked for any sign that her words had reassured him, but his expression hadn’t changed. “If there’s any chance she even has a clue where we are, we’ll run again. I’m sure Dennis has a new-life warranty of some sort.”
It was a sad attempt at a joke, but it made Sam finally meet her eyes. “I’m okay, J-Juju. It’s j-j-just…” He gestured toward the ugly building. “N-n-new school.”
“Oh.” It shouldn’t have been such a surprise that Sam was worried about such a normal thing as his first day at a new school, but it was. They’d been freaking out over getting away and staying away from Courtney so much that Jules had forgotten any other worries existed. “You’ll do great, Sam. All the work will be old hat to you. If anything, you’ll be bored.”
Sam came as close as she’d ever seen to rolling his eyes. “Sure, J-Ju.”
The twins and Dez waited at the main doors for Jules and Sam to catch up. Feeling like a parenting failure, she asked, “Are you nervous about starting school, Ty?”
“Nah.” His shrug was a hair too nonchalant as they passed through the door into the dimness of a hallway. “I’m not scared. Not that excited about getting homework and stuff, but school is school. Kids are kids. Some are nice and some are assholes.”
“Language!”
Tio looked at her seriously. “It is the most appropriate term for some people in our demographic.”
Since she couldn’t really argue with the truth about that, Jules changed the subject. “What about you, T? Any first-day jitters?”
The look her brother gave her was completely uncomprehending. “Why would school make me nervous?” For him, school had always been his safe place.