The sound of the chain saw had been so loud, so violent—it had felt as if it were tearing through her head. “Stop!” she’d screamed at the groundsman, unable to stand it another second.
He hadn’t heard her through the noise. She’d stepped in front of him just as he lifted the saw and lunged, trying to wrest it out of his hands. By the time the saw had gone silent, the pristine snow had been dappled with his blood.
“They all tried to help me,” Callie said, shaking as she retold the story. “The man’s wound wasn’t as severe as the amount of blood suggested, thank God, though he required several stitches in his left arm. Luckily, he didn’t want to press charges.” She shivered. “The next morning, Paul took me to see what was left.”
“Why would he do that?”
“He wanted to show me the growth rings. So I could see that the tree wasn’t as old as Rose had believed. I mean it was old, but not three hundred years old. He thought it would make me feel better to know that.”
“And did it?”
“No,” Callie said. “Finding out—it just negated Rose completely. For all those years she’d been searching, and she finally thought she had found it. And now…” She started to cry.
Zee handed her a box of tissues she kept on her desk. “Tell me about the sound the cutting of the tree made.”
“I don’t want to talk about the tree anymore,” Callie said, annoyed. “I want to talk about the guilt I feel. The guilt that Rose’s life was wasted—”
“Humor me.”
Callie crossed her arms and frowned.
“You said it was the sound that triggered your outburst.”
“It did.”
“What did it sound like?”
“A chain saw.”
Zee waited.
“It was a whining, shrieking kind of thing.”
“Did it remind you of anything?”
Callie thought for a moment, then dismissed it.
“What? Don’t edit, just tell me what came to mind.”
“Trees.”
“What trees?” Zee prompted.
“Rose’s oaks,” Callie said. “All the ones she searched out in Salem before she found this one.”
“The images that come back to you, where do they come from?”
“The night of the murders,” Callie said.
Zee waited.
“The trees,” Callie said. “On Proctor’s Ledge.”
“What was it about those trees?”
“They weren’t oaks. They were just a tangle of branches close to the ground, and we had trouble walking through them. They seemed to be holding us back. And then later the hedge that Rose pushed me into saved my life.”
“How?” Zee said.
“I was trapped.” Callie felt how the prickly branches had held her. Rose had said not to move, not to make a sound. But she couldn’t have even if she’d wanted to. It was as if the bushes had imprisoned her, had put a binding spell on her the way Ann Chase had done on the day they met. “I couldn’t move. Not even when the screaming started.”
“Who was screaming?”
“Rose said it was the banshee.”
“Is that what you think it was, a banshee?”
“I don’t know.”
Zee looked at her. “Was it one of the Goddesses?”
“I don’t…I don’t think so.” Susan’s fall had been silent. Her mother had cried out briefly, but that long piercing noise…
“What did it sound like to you? The shrieking and whining.”
“It sounded like a chain saw,” Callie said, making the connection.
Zee sat forward in her chair, holding Callie’s gaze. “And where was the sound coming from?”
“I don’t know.”
“You know.”
“I don’t!” Callie insisted.
“You know,” Zee said again, this time more gently, never breaking her gaze.
Callie stared back but said nothing for a long time.
“Oh my God,” Callie said as she finally understood something she realized the nuns must have known all along. “It was coming from me. The screaming banshee…it was me.”
The nuns were at Vespers when she arrived. Callie sat on the cold stone bench right outside the chapel, where she could hear the last words of the Magnificat, followed immediately by the Lord’s Prayer.
The nuns filed out silently. Callie did not meet anyone’s eye.
Sister Agony was the last to leave the chapel. At first, she looked surprised to see Callie on the bench. When she caught her expression, Agony’s surprise turned to worry.
“What’s wrong?”
“Rose is dead. Really, this time.” Callie tried unsuccessfully to hold back tears.
“How?”
“She froze to death under a tree.”
Agony stared at her.
“It’s my fault.”
Agony watched Callie carefully, trying to understand.
“She always thought it was a banshee she heard screaming the night of the murders, but it wasn’t.” Callie began to choke. “You knew all along that it was me, didn’t you?”
“Come inside,” the nun said, taking Callie’s arm and walking her toward one of the wooden benches in the back of the chapel. Callie took a deep breath, willing herself to stop crying.
The old nun folded her hands the same way she had the last time Callie confronted her. This time, though, it wasn’t to stop her anger, but to pray. When she finished her prayer, she crossed herself and took a deep breath. “Your screams were heard all night long by the nuns at St. James’s.”
“They never told me that.”
“No, they wouldn’t have.”
“Why didn’t they call the police?”
“That’s a question I’ve been asking myself for a long time,” Sister Agony said, her voice far softer than Callie had ever heard it. She wrung her hands together in remorse as she continued. “I believe they honestly thought it was a Halloween prank.”
Callie looked at her in disbelief.
“When they finally found you the next day, you were in horrible shape.” The nun glanced at the stigmata. “The police only made things worse. You were questioned so much they feared for your sanity. You were an orphan, so Catholic Charities got involved with DCF, and they decided to move you here, away from the investigation. We really thought they would question you again at some point…they had every right to, but then Rose started talking about the banshee. We wanted to tell you Rose was alive, but she was clearly delusional, and maybe even a killer. So we decided not to tell you. Which was the second sin of omission committed against you by people who wanted nothing more than to help. But people don’t always make the best decisions, Callie. Even with the best intentions.”
Callie just looked at her.
“After that you were fostered. The same way we fostered all of our orphans.” The nun forced herself to make eye contact but had trouble holding Callie’s chilling stare.
Callie made a sound between a laugh and a choke. “Except that I was returned. Because I was surrounded by death.”
Now the nun held her stare. “You don’t remember all of what happened, do you?”
“Please tell me.”