Laiken

Annie observes me saying my goodbyes. She's quiet the whole while, watching from the sidelines. I wonder what she thinks about all this. Is it easy for her to tear apart a happy family? My mother is right: she's a cold-hearted bitch.

I face Annie, waiting for what's next.

She lifts her thin eyebrows high. “Aren't you going to pack anything?”

“Why?” I scan the cabin and shrug. “I'll be back.”

She doesn't respond, her lips sliding into an amused smile. Looking over me, she nods at my parents. “I'll be in touch.” Her sharp heels take her out onto the porch. I trail her reluctantly, the smothering despair starting to work its way up my legs as this becomes real.

One of the soldier-like men hands her an umbrella. Annie pops it open, shielding herself from the rain. She stops to talk to three guys waiting at the bottom of the steps. I don't know what she whispers, but all of them bow their heads.

“Laiken.” I turn, staring up at my Dad.

“It's okay,” I assure him—myself. “I'll see everyone again soon.”

“Lolly...”

“I'm fine.” The words come out hard. But I'm trying not to fall apart, and his pet name for me, this pity, is too much. I make myself smile. It gives me a headache. “Take care of things and... don't let Dean grow up too quickly!” My throat hurts and I'm almost relieved when Annie shouts my name.

I don't want to leave my home.

But the sooner I go, the sooner I'll be back. I'm certain of it.

Darting through the drizzle, I pull up short just outside the range of her umbrella. I don't want her help. Not even with this. Annie opens the back door of the shiny car. Inside, it smells like the flowers by the riverbed after they've been pressed between the pages of a book. I love drying them out like that.

“In,” she says. I climb over the leather seats, feeling some delight in how my muddy shoes mess up the pristine interior. “Seatbelt,” she instructs me. I clip it into place, and she slams the door shut.

For a minute I'm alone in a bubble - just the rain trampling the roof and me.

Annie opens the driver's side, tossing her wet umbrella on the floor near me. Another man gets in on the passenger side. I can't recognize him, they all blur together with their close-cut hair and crisp suits.

He slides off his sunglasses, making me notice he'd worn them this whole time even with the rain. When he glances at me, I make sure not to flinch. “Hey there,” he says.

I grit my jaw hard.

“I'm Miles.” His arm drapes over the back of his seat. “You're a quiet one, huh?”

“Leave her alone.” Annie shoots the guy a look, starting the car. “Just call Heidi the second we get some damn service out here. Jesus, he really hid himself in the middle of nowhere.”

Miles plays with something I can't see, his eyes in his lap. “I'll tell you when I get a bar. Might not be until we get closer to the town.” He's talking about Stutter's Valley, the place Dad visits every now and then for supplies. I've rarely been there. Two weeks back was one of those times, when he left us with the midwife so he could get Mom to a bigger hospital.

Annie glances in the rear-view mirror, watching me. Her eyes glow with a blue hue from the dashboard. This car is way nicer than ours; I don't understand half of the things I'm seeing. “Are you hungry?” she asks.

I shake my head.

She holds my eyes then stares out at the winding dirt road. The car isn't made for this terrain; it rolls over a rock, and Miles groans. “Fuck, this place is hell.”

“No it's not,” I say flatly. “It's Heaven.”

Miles throws his head back as he laughs at me. “Sure, kid. Sure.”

I watch out the window. I count every tree, every wet and thorny bush. I'm inscribing our journey in my mind so that I'll never forget the way back home.

****

WE DRIVE THROUGH THE town and we don't stop.

People glance at us as we pass. It's enough for me to feel bitter. Why aren't they helping me? Why is no one stopping our car? Annie and her goons are evil and I'm not supposed to be here.

No one tries to slow us down.

“Hey,” Miles says, lifting something to his ear. I think it must be a phone but I've never seen one so small. The ones in books are all big with curly cords. “We're going to make it to the launch spot in fifteen.” He pauses. “Yup, we've got the cargo.”

I don't realize Mile's is talking about me until Annie peeks at me in the mirror. Clutching my seatbelt, I stare as we drive towards a flat field. The rain has slowed, but there's still no sun in the sky. What I see waiting for us in the clearing takes my breath away.

The helicopter looks just like the drawings I've seen. Its yellow and black surface is wasp-like. The blades on top aren't moving but I picture them spinning in a blur.

“Ever been flying before?” Annie asks, reading my mind.

I say nothing. Silence is the only power I have.

The tires stop moving. Miles hops out, stretching. Annie comes around to open my door. She seems unsure if she should offer me her hand or not. I take the choice away by climbing onto the squishy ground. She curls her fingers and shuts the door loudly. “Refill the car in that town before you head back to the cabin, Miles.”

“Yeah, yeah. Let me shake out this stiffness first.”

Eyeing the helicopter, I see someone sitting inside, the pilot, most likely. I've never been scared of heights. I've spent hours imagining being a bird, soaring overhead, light as air. The sweat on my palms isn't from fear of flying. It's because this will make it impossible for me to memorize the way back home.

She leads me to the open door in the chopper. The pilot in the front seat is wearing a helmet of some kind. I can't see her eyes, but she flashes Annie a thumb's up. There are only two seats in the rear. I sit in one, clipping the belt into place without needing to be told.

I'm not scared of flying. But I'm not going to risk falling to my death.

The blades whine loudly. Annie bends over the pilot, saying something then joins me in the back. Once she's buckled in, we take off. As awful as leaving is, there's a thrill to being so high in the sky. I catch myself smiling too late; Annie sees, but she says nothing. The longer we spend together the more she seems unsure of how to interact.

“You're quiet,” she yells over the noise. “I expected you to have more questions.”

I have a thousand of them, but I want nothing from this woman.

“I'm not your enemy, you know.” She keeps talking, a person in love with her own voice. “I can even be your friend.”

“No you can't,” I scoff. Annie's grin is crooked; I gave her what she wanted. Burning red at my own weakness, I stare back out the window. I wish the space in here were bigger. I'm too close to her shiny heels. The cloying perfume she wears burns my nose.

She sighs loudly. “What Joseph did isn't your fault. But because of him, you're being yanked from your family. If you need to hate anyone, hate him.”

Her barbs are too precise. I can't hold back, so I stop trying. “I love my dad. I always will. Unlike you, he's a wonderful person.”

“Wonderful?” She tastes the word, running her tongue over her teeth. “He really told you nothing. I knew he was a coward, I didn't know how big of one.”

The way she smiles is plastic, sickly-sweet. Her disgust for my dad is tangible. “You're wrong. You don't even know him.”

“I know him much better than you do.”

Scrunching my eyebrows, I face her fully. “Liar.”

She hunches forward. There's something smoldering in her eyes. It makes them look like pennies held up to the setting sun. “Then ask me. I'll tell you what he did, why this is all happening to you, if you just ask.”

My pulse begins to flutter. I'm holding my breath, poised to accept her answers. Annie's lips are stretched tight over her teeth. She's excited... eager to destroy my image of my father. And I worry that she can do it...that whatever she's going to say is venomous without an antidote.

“No.” Swallowing, trying to get saliva in my dry mouth, I turn away. “I don't want more lies.”

Annie doesn't push the topic. Two hours later we pass over the dark tops of oak trees. Evening has cloaked the world below in shadows. I can make out a long, paved road. Then I see something baffling.

The flat roof rises up ahead. Rows of golden-yellow light shine bright in the windows. There are hundreds of them—maybe thousands, I'm not sure. More than I can count is all I know. “What is that?” I whisper, the hum of the helicopter muting me.

She must have read my lips, because she says, “Bradley Estate. I guess you've never seen a house that big before. Don't worry, you'll get used to it. I've worked hard to make the place what it is today.”

Shock makes my eyes throb. “That's where you live?”

“No. It's where we live.” In the reflection of the glass, Annie's expression is transparently cruel. “Welcome to your new home.”