Page 47 of Blade

He took her clothes, said she didn’t need to see them again. He would get rid of them for her.

When they were all ready to leave, Hugo said to Emile, as if the girls weren’t even there, as if it was up to the two of them to decide, “Should we call the police?”

And even though Kayla reacted, saying “No—no way,” Emile said something that made everything clearer.

“No—they could trace the call back here, to Dawn’s house. And besides, think about it.”

“But she has to report it, right?” Hugo asked.

“She doesn’t have to do anything,” Emile said. “If she reports it, and no one believes her—then what? Her life will be over.” His voice was infused with certainty. Which was exactly what they all needed. Even Hugo.

So that was that.

Hugo stayed at Emile’s to “have a drink” he said, like this had been so difficult for him. That left the Orphans to drive back alone. Kayla smoked a cigarette and finished the Jack Daniel’s, the wind blowing her hair across her face. She didn’t speak until they’d sneaked through the open window at Avery Hall. Back to being four girls afraid of getting in trouble for breaking curfew. Afraid to trust anyone else in their lives. And this became clearer as they huddled in their room, Kayla changed into pajamas and sitting on her bed, clutching a pillow to her chest, Ana and Indy flanking her on either side.

Jolene stood at the foot of the bed, worry on her face.

“Are you sure you don’t want to go to the police?” she asked.

“I remember part of the license plate,” Indy said.

But Kayla shut it down. “It wasn’t the guy from the van,” she said.

Their eyes all widened at the same time, their heads turning to face their friend even though it was painful to look at her while she told the story.

“That guy—the short one—after we were in the woods, he saw some friends smoking a joint through the trees. He asked if I wanted to come, but I said I’d wait. And when he’d been gone for a while, I figured he’d decided to hang out with them, so I headed back to the car.”

Kayla continued with her story, each word a twist, another turn inside Ana’s head.

“I don’t know where he came from,” she said, her face devoid of expression. “I felt a hand grab my wrist. He spun me around, and then he punched me on the side of my head. I don’t know how many times. It was so fast. He hit me so hard. Then I was on the ground and he wasover me and then I saw his hand raised and that’s all I remember before I was in the car.”

Jolene cleared her throat, the words catching. “Did he ... could you tell?”

And then Ana felt another twist, but she held a steady gaze, everything inside, not outside. Expressionless. Motionless. Following Kayla’s lead.

Kayla closed her eyes. “When I was in the bath, at Emile’s house ... I think so, but I don’t remember it happening.”

Jolene understood more than they did. She was the only one of them who’d been with a boy. “You would know,” she said.

Kayla hung her head and closed her eyes. “Then, yes,” she said, the words taking on shape and meaning inside her. Turning her face, red and contorted, shoulders rising and elbows pinching her sides like she was trying to keep it in, and then she lifted her hand in the air and made a fist and pounded it into a pillow, again and again.

She said, finally, “I’ll fucking kill him!”

Jolene swallowed Kayla in her arms until her fists unclenched and she cried, her entire face nestled into the crease between Jolene’s neck and shoulder.

And what now? Ana watched the older two Orphans exchanging something unspoken, like, okay, he did that to you while you were passed out, after he punched you in the head and you fell to the ground. And we didn’t go to the hospital, or the police, because Emile raised the question—who would believe you? And then what? Your life would be over, he said. And then Emile drew you a bath, told you to wash, took your clothes, the only evidence of this heinous crime.

Emile was the adult. They’d agreed to trust him. But nothing about this felt right.

So now, after she knew all the facts, whatever part of her wanted to reach out to the adult universe, with the parents who had sent them here and the bleacher bees who wanted to slit their throats, and now Dawn who couldn’t have something like this touch The Palace, vanished.

This was how it would be. Some man in the woods who, Kayla told them, was not a kid, and who smelled like one of those pine-scented trees that hang from rearview mirrors, and who had a necklace of black and white beads.

And now that man would get to drive to wherever he was from. He would get away with something so horrible, and they would never tell a soul.

Because—well—who was there to tell?

Later that night, when Ana still wasn’t asleep but lying in her bed, her insides churning—listening to Mio breathe with her insides perfectly still—she thought about where this had all started. Jolene’s giant smile, her words saying “there’s four of them and four of us” like somehow this meant they were destined to be together.