Page 82 of Heathens
He doesn’t want to touch me. Who could blame him?
I look over at the light blue car—his car, I assume.
He called me Evelyn.
“Please,” he whispers, looking behind me. “I’m getting you out of this shithole.”
And suddenly, the scene before me becomes very clear.
The complete and utter chaos.
The screaming, yelling, the lack of guards as they try to control the situation.
The man before me, so familiar. A stranger. But—not a stranger. He knew my name.
“Lily wants you to get in the car,” he adds, his eyes pleading.
Lily.
Lily.
I nod and climb in the back seat quickly, and the man gives me a small, victorious smile as he rushes around and climbs into the driver’s seat. As the car lurches forward, I turn around and look at the house behind me, the girls who, like me, are too shocked and shattered to run. Too conditioned to be obedient to run. Too conditioned to accepting their fate because nothing else seemed possible. Certainly not escape. Auguste Martin had been right, and I had begun to believe him too. “Your family will stop looking for you. The drugs will take over. The lifestyle will normalize. The novelty of running gets old. You start to appreciate the routine. The food. In your case, the luxury.”
The large Victorian house gets smaller and smaller as we drive away.
Driving away. Away from hell.
No one notices.
No one sees my escape.
It wasthateasy.
I got out.
I got out.
I should be smiling, whooping my arms into the air, laughing and celebrating.
Instead, I look forward again and swallow, letting my body fall to the side and curling my legs into my chest on the leather seats. Tears leak from my eyes, and I begin to sob. Shaking, trembling, I pull my body into a tight ball, and I let myself cry. I cry for myself. I cry for them. That I left them there to fight for themselves.
But I didn’t leave them. I was taken away. Lily. She never stopped looking.
She never stopped caring.
She never stopped.
Want You All Night
Lily
Present
Benedict’s words swirl through my mind as I pace the hotel room and wring my hands together. My mouth is dry, but I’m too distracted to drink anything. My eyes sting from the unshed tears. I’m attempting and failing to hold myself together until Salem gets here. I can’t break down now—I have to be strong for her.
I’ve got her.
She’s asleep.
