“You’ve got a little over ninety seconds,” he says, but he doesn’t sound quite as pushy about it now.
“I think Cregg trying to handle all three of us is why the other girl managed to kill herself. She’d been there for days before we arrived. There were cuts up and down her body, and I’m sure Cregg caused those, but she’s the one who decided to cut her wrists, while he was focused on adding me to his game. I’m not saying he wouldn’t have killed her eventually, because I think he would have. But he hadn’t planned on doing it yet. He was angry when he realized she was bleeding out. He shoved me and Daciana back down into the cellar. We didn’t see him for a long time after that. At least two days. And he brought us up one at a time that first day he was back. I think maybe he was worried that if one of us could get enough control to kill herself, one of us might get enough control to kill him.”
She speeds up the next part. “That last night, Daciana seemed like she was sick. Or maybe it was just nightmares. She thrashed about in her sleep, yelling something in Romanian. Then she said he was here, in English. I thought maybe she was still dreaming. I hadn’t heard anything from up above and I’d been awake. But sure enough, there was a door slam, and a few seconds later, the light hit my eyes. Then she grabbed his arm and started talking. The words were mumbled, but her English was almost perfect now. ‘It’s the black girl’s turn to go first, maybe I should make her use the grill lighter for a change.’ Cregg just stood there, staring at her. Then she started laughing, but it was like she couldn’t help it, high-pitched and crazy sounding.
“And Daciana was right. The last time, Cregg had taken her upstairs first. So I was kind of surprised when he yanked her up and dragged her upstairs. I kept waiting for the screams, but they never came. After a while, I fell asleep.” She pauses for a moment. “And then I heard someone coming down the stairs. Something heavy hit me. I tried to block the blow. I guess it broke my arm, because I couldn’t move it to block the second blow or the one after that. Eventually, someone came to get my body. I stayed with it for a little while, but then . . . I had to let my body go.”
I don’t know if she’s cold or it’s just the memory, but she shivers and waits a moment before she continues. “After that, I just remember feeling . . . empty. Needing. I needed to find Mama. To find Pa and Mimmy. To find you, Tay.” She wants to add Aaron’s name but holds back. “I never made it, though. I’m not sure how I got back to the U Street shelter. Mama and I stayed there for a couple of weeks, right after I left Pa’s house to join her. I almost had her talked into leaving Lucas—she was clean for twelve whole days, until . . . I don’t know. She called him? He found her? So I think maybe I was looking for her at the shelter, but it’s all fuzzy and confused. I don’t know how long I was there or how long I’d have stayed there if Anna hadn’t touched the piano keys. It was like I didn’t have the energy to move. I just kept thinking that if I could play that song for Pa, he’d hear it somehow, wherever he was. That I wouldn’t have to find him, because he’d find me.”
Tears are running down my cheeks, but Molly doesn’t make any effort to wipe them away.
I know I’m past the time limit, but I’m almost done, Anna. I promise.
Molly sighs and gives Aaron a fleeting look before her eyes come back to Taylor. “I am so sorry for not telling you where I was going, Tay. I was just . . .” She sighs and leans forward. “I was just tired of everyone thinking she was a lost cause. I knew if I could keep her away from Lucas long enough, keep her clean long enough, that she could get her life together. Everyone else had given up on her, even Pa, I think. And if I told you what I was planning, I knew you’d try to stop me. Maybe even tell Pa. You’d have been right to do that, too, because it was a stupid idea . . . but I had to try. If it was your mom, I think you’d have done the same. But I’m sorry for being stupid and for not trusting you and . . . for getting my stupid self killed. Okay?”
Taylor’s eyes are glassy and she’s biting her bottom lip so hard I’m afraid she’s going to pierce through it.
“Just one question, Molly. Did you have your L purse with you? In that cabin?”
I have no idea what that means, and judging from the other faces in the room, neither does anyone else. Even Molly seems confused for a moment, but then she laughs. I get a brief image of a pink-sequined square. “Yeah. Back pocket, just like always.”
Taylor nods, like she’s filing that fact away.