Dad wasn’t in his room, or the kitchen, which didn’t make sense. He should have been home. The song was playing. I ran to the French doors that led to the patio, but he wasn’t there, either. That left only the boys.
“Freddie!” I called, and immediately Sean appeared out of the shadows, his lip swollen and bloody. He didn’t say anything, just looked at me, his eyes hard and his cheeks streaked with tears that had long since dried.
“Mori?” Michael appeared next, red welts slashing his face. He ran over to me and buried his face in my shoulder, so I couldn’t inspect his injuries, and immediately started to shake with silent tears.
By the time Freddie limped from the shadows, I was ready to fall to pieces. His right eye was swollen shut, and his forehead had a gash that was still slowly trickling blood into his eyebrow and down his cheek. He was holding his ribs with an arm that looked battered, and his jeans were ripped and stained. “I tried to stop it, like you always do,” he said.
That was my job on “Memories of You” nights. And I hadn’t been here. I hadn’t stopped our father, despite all my plans.
I shook my head and pulled Freddie closer, reached for Seanie as well. “Never mind that. I need you three to go pack a bag. Pack like you won’t be coming back for a while. All your favorite things. Seanie, you’ll help Freddie?”
“Where are we going?” Michael asked, his words muffled by my shirt.
“To my house,” Lock said from the doorway. I watched his eyes take in every detail of the boys and then I turned away, ashamed. I didn’t want him to see them this way. To know how I’d failed.
“To a hotel,” I said, trying to force myself to smile when I said it, like it would be the most fun they ever had. “We’ll stay at a hotel and I’ll take care of things.”
“Which one?” Sean asked, as if he wouldn’t come along should my choice be inadequate.
I smiled and shooed at him with my hand. “Off you go, Seanie. And no packing your whole life. One bag, I mean it!”
Sean and Fred trudged up the stairs, but Michael wouldn’t be moved. I nudged him back from me just enough to see his face. He was crying still and it looked like he would have a black eye.
“Tell me,” I said, quietly.
“The s-song,” he said, a tear dripping down his cheek. “It was playing when we came home from school.”
I’d thought I’d had it all figured out, Dad’s ritual, his targets, his methods. My ignorance caused the welts on Michael’s face.
“Freddie really did try.”
I wanted to sink into the floor, but I managed a nod, managed to keep my own tears from showing. “I know it. I should’ve been here.”
“He stopped when Sadie came.”
A flare of panic shot off inside, but I tried to keep it out of my voice. “What happened? When Sadie got here?”
“She brought us a peach pie! Can we take it with us to the hotel?”
“Yes, of course, but I really do need to know what happened.”
“She pushed her way into the house and Freddie hid Sean while Dad was distracted. Then she started talking really low to Dad.”
“Did you hear what she said?”
“Something about constables she met at the park. Dad did that thing where he hunches over when he’s mad and said they should just go and find those constables right now. Sadie looked at me and Fred and then said they should.”
“She went to the park with him?” My voice betrayed me, and Michael’s eyes went wide. “I have to know everything, Michael. This is so, so important.”
“D-dad got mad again when he couldn’t find his sweater in his room. He yelled, ‘Where is it?’ and then it sounded like he slammed his closet door. Sadie smiled at us and said that you’d be home right quick, which doesn’t really make sense. Does she always talk like that?”
“And then?” I prodded.
“Then they left to go find the constables at the park.”
I could barely take in my next breath, but I forced a grin and smoothed Michael’s hair. “Go pack, Michael. Quick as you can.”
The very minute he turned toward the stairs, I turned to Sherlock. “Keep them safe. Get them out of here and—”
“Where are you going?”
“He took her to the park.” I grabbed Lock’s arms and stared up into his eyes. “His closet is where he kept the sword,” I whispered. “He couldn’t find it, but he took her—”
“Go,” he said before I finished, but he didn’t let go of me right away. “Be careful. I’ll be right behind you.”