“That’s perfect, Molly.”
A few more minutes, and Aaron has narrowed it down to two exits on I-95—either Exit 89, to Havre de Grace, or Exit 93, Port Deposit. More likely the first, since Molly can’t remember crossing a bridge just before the exit.
“I don’t know any more about the roads after that,” she says, and I’m pretty sure the steely tone she’s using is aimed at me. “It was dark and I couldn’t see anything. It was ten minutes before we reached the house. Fifteen, maybe. Then he locked me in the basement with the other girls. One of them was Daciana.”
“And you’re sure it’s the same person?” Daniel asks.
“Yes. She looks different now, but I’m sure.”
“You said ‘girls,’ right?” Sam asks. “How many others?”
“Just one. I don’t remember much about her. She was only with us that first night. I think her name was Lily. Daciana and I were there for another six days. Maybe more. We kind of lost track. Cregg visited four times, always at night. We were in the cellar below the house when he was away. Dark the whole time, except for a little bit of light coming in through some of the floorboards. No windows. There was a toilet, a sink, and a shopping bag full of ancient granola bars. Pop-Tarts too, but they were moldy so they must have been down there forever.”
“The other girl you mentioned,” Daniel says. “Lily? Did she leave with him? Or did Cregg kill her, too?”
“Not . . . exactly.” Molly hesitates, and then says, “Any other group of people and I’d worry about them believing what I’ve got to say next. But Pa’s talked about Sam’s hunches back when they were on the force. I knew to ask Taylor anytime I lost something, ever since we were little. Knew better than to play hide-and-seek with her, too. And I’ve suspected Aaron’s little secret since he came running out of his classroom and across the playground back when Tay and I were in third grade. That Jeremy Villers kid was pissed off that Pa caught his uncle dealin’ drugs, and I’m pretty sure his bat would’ve connected with my head if Aaron hadn’t known what was about to happen.”
She turns to face Daniel. “And you . . . well, you know everything I’ve just said is true. You’ve been in the middle of this craziness all your life. Plus, you’re all sitting here talking to me in a body that I’m borrowing—”
“For a little under four more minutes,” Deo says.
“In a body that I’m borrowing,” Molly repeats, eyes narrowed at Deo’s interruption, “because my own has been dead for nearly three years. When it was found, you all know I was missing a finger. I don’t know if they could still tell by then, but there were . . . shallow cuts up and down my body.”
The room feels cold now, and Molly has my arms crossed over my chest, hands clutching too tightly at my arms. When she starts speaking again, her voice is flat, and the words tumble out quickly.
“I could tell you Cregg did all of that damage. That he picked up the knife and sliced into me. That he picked up those garden shears and snipped off my finger. But if they’d gotten to my body sooner, I’m pretty sure the people at the morgue would have figured out from the angle that most of my wounds were self-inflicted.”
Someone inhales sharply. I’m not sure who. Taylor and Sam are the only two I can see right now. Taylor has her hands over her mouth and little gray lines of tears mixed with mascara are streaming down her cheeks.
“They’d be right about that,” Molly says, “except they wouldn’t know that I didn’t have a choice. Cregg can get in your head, and . . . like now, the way Anna’s body is mostly in my control? It’s like that, except I think Anna could push me away if she really wanted to. I couldn’t push Cregg no matter how hard I tried. He made me cut Daciana, too. Made her cut me, cut herself. I’m guessing she has scars, and if you’d pulled off her gloves tonight, I bet she’s missing the same finger I am.
“Cregg would sit there on the floor, cross-legged, like he was meditating or something. Then I’d hear this whistling noise, and next thing I know, he has control. That first night, he was controlling all three of us at the same time. Like it was a game, or like juggling maybe. Like he wanted to see how many balls he could keep in the air at the same time. He seemed really full of himself, so I think three was a personal best.”
It feels like there’s a giant lump in my throat. “Could you . . . is there more water? Or maybe a soda?”
Molly chugs most of the soda when Aaron hands it to her, so fast that I know I’m going to have a nasty case of heartburn. But after what she’s been telling us, I can’t really begrudge her the drink.
She looks at Deo. “Time?”