Page 81 of Heathens
“Yes,” I whisper back, smiling at the bartender as he hands me my change. “Thank you,” I say out loud.
And then, using the last of my strength, I walk away from Lily as she continues to cry, wiping tears away quickly and furiously, embarrassed to be seen in public crying. My heart lurches. I should comfort her—Ineedto console her. The physical need to protect her is overpowering, but I put one foot in front of the other as I walk back to Father Marquesa and Father Castilian, every step feeling like a tiny betrayal. I send her a quick text with my father’s address as the priests continue talking, hardly noticing my absence or my distraction.
When you're finished, please go back up to your room. I'll be there in an hour. And—I'm sorry I can't reassure you. Distract you. You have no idea how much I want—need—to. She will be okay.
She doesn’t respond; she only gives me a slight nod as she gathers her things and leaves. I send one more text, this time to Felix. I keep it as succinct as possible.
It’s a long story, and one I don’t know all the details to yet, but can you please talk to dad about Auguste? They found Evelyn. They’re heading to the house right now. Please—keep them safe until we get there tomorrow night. People are looking.
His response comes immediately, and I smile, suddenly feeling on the verge of crying as a wave of emotions hit me all at once.I am so thankful for my family.Yes, we endured horrible loss when our mother died, but the sense of family didn’t die with her. We’ve huddled together and come out stronger, and the more I hear about other families, like Evelyn’s and Lily’s, the more I know ours is not the norm.
We will take care of it. Please take care of Lily now. She needs it. Put that dress to good use. Celebrate a little bit. You won. Let that sink in—you guys won, and Father M. lost.
I read his text several times before pocketing my phone and sipping my coke. Food is ordered, but I don’t eat any of it. All I can hear are Felix’s words.
You won.
You won.
You won.
But then... how come I feel like our work has only begun?
I Left Them
Evelyn
Present
Smoke. I smelled smoke before I heard the alarms. But I wasn’t sure if it was all in my mind. Lots of things were all in my mind lately.
Legs. My legs felt wobbly as I tried to run—as I tried to wake the other girls up.
Door. The door was unguarded. The men who usually stood by the front door, armed and large, were gone.
Push. I pushed the door open, and the sun nearly blinded me. I didn’t even realize it was daytime. I’d been napping—and the windows were sealed shut and painted black.
Arms. I’d spread my arms as the sun kissed my skin, my exposed legs, my arms. I looked down. I was wearing a negligee.
I didn’t care.
Grinning, I spin around in circles, basking in the moment of freedom. I know it won’t last—it never does—but I’ve learned to appreciate these pockets of serenity for what they are. They were necessary to my survival—kisses from heaven when I needed them the most.
The other girls come running out, some naked, some too drugged up to walk. Those girls crawl, and my heart lurches. I should help them.
I should help them, and then I should run.
The shrill alarm behind us starts to sear into my mind, the burning getting stronger. I cover my ears and sit down in the middle of the road, rocking back and forth, waiting for the noise to end.
Waiting for all of it to end.
I barely notice the rough fingers on my arms.
I don’t comprehend the whispers, the shouts, the car tires and screeches.
Someone throws a blanket around me even though it’s so,sohot out.
“Get in the car, Evelyn.“ My eyes snap open, meeting the dark, pooling irises of a younger man who's looking down at me with a mix of pity and urgency. “Get in. Now,“ he orders, reaching out but stopping himself.
