Willow picked at a hangnail on her thumb, tugging at it until it bled. The pain barely registered in her mind. There hadn’t been a single day in the last year when her cuticles hadn’t been torn and bleeding. She glanced over at her mother, who was gripping the steering wheel with two white-knuckled fists as they sped along the highway, well above the posted speed limit. Yellow light from the overhead freeway lamps streaked across Celeste’s face every so often, highlighting the harsh wrinkles permanently etched between her brows. She hadn’t said a word since the two of them left – or rather, fled – the fire station. Though they both checked the rearview mirror every few minutes, it appeared that no one had followed them. The highway was all but deserted and the lights from the town were far behind them now, just a faint orange glow on the dark horizon.
As the light from the very last streetlamp streaked past, Celeste peered behind them one last time. The rearview mirror was completely dark now. No one was following them. No one would even know that they had driven through there. She finally released the breath she had been holding for what felt like the last hour and eased up on the accelerator. She had done it; the child – or whatever it was – would be someone else’s problem now. And she would sleep soundly, knowing there was no blood on her hands. It might not have been Shaman Mike’s first choice, Celeste reasoned to herself, but he’ll be so proud when he hears. And with it gone, I’ll finally be able to invite him over for dinner. Maybe even “dessert”! The thought sent a happy shiver down her spine. She had to compose herself before speaking again, lest Willow hear the giddiness in her voice.
“When we get back, I’m going to enroll you at the high school in town.”
“Really?” Willow gasped. “You mean it?”
Her mother nodded tersely. “You are to tell them that I’ve been homeschooling you for the past year. And under no circumstance are you to mention anything about the… well, you know. To anyone. Am I clear?”
Willow nodded, feeling the lump in her throat slowly begin to shrink. “Mama… what do you think is going to happen to her? Will she be—”
“I don’t know. I don’t want to know. And after we get home, I never want to hear the subject raised again. I knew that boy in Scarville was no good, putting all sorts of strange ideas in your head so he could take advantage of you. And look at what he did to you! What he put in you! There will be no consorting with boys at this new school, Willow – do you understand me? The universe saw fit to punish you for your idiocy but I’ll be damned if I continue to be punished by proxy!”
“I’m sorry, Mama,” Willow whispered. “I promise I’ll never make the same mistake again. Thank you for helping me fix everything. And thank you for letting me go back to school. I promise I’ll be good this time. And I won’t tell anyone about… anything.”
“Good,” Celeste replied, gritting her teeth. A hot soaking bath with lavender salts had been calling her name for some time. “Now, you’re sure you dumped everything in the dumpster back there? The crib, the bottles, everything? We can’t have anyone back home asking questions.”
“All of it’s in there.”
“The clothes and toys too?”
A small knot formed in Willow’s stomach. She’d thrown everything in the fire station dumpster, just like her mother instructed – everything, save for a small, wooden rattle that had the name “Lilah” hand-painted on the side. For some reason, she couldn’t bear to part with that. Her hand went to her back pocket, where it was safely hidden.
“All of it’s gone, Mama. I–I promise.”
Celeste smiled to herself. Soon enough, she and her daughter would be home, and everything would finally be back to normal. The universe had seen fit to send her its greatest challenge yet, and she knew she had passed with flying colors. Life would be easier from here on out, she just knew it. Heck, she might even stop at the Corner Market on the way home and buy a lottery ticket – after all, good things were coming her way. She could feel it.
“What’s that?” Willow asked, pointing.
“What’s what?”
“That red thing by the road. Is that a… person?” she asked, squinting her eyes to make out the moving shape in the fog.
Celeste took her foot off the gas. A woman in a bright red rain jacket was walking alongside the road, just ahead. She didn’t appear to notice their van as Celeste slowed down to pull onto the shoulder in front of her.
“What are you doing?” Willow asked, chewing on her thumbnail.
“It’s the middle of the night and it’s freezing outside. Shaman Mike says the only way to earn karma for this life and the next is through acts of kindness. So, we’ll take her to the nearest gas station. I wanted to make a quick stop there, anyway.”
Willow bit her lip, doing her best not to think about the other little person they had left out in the cold that night.
“Roll down the window,” her mother instructed as she shifted into Park.
The woman continued walking along the dark shoulder, her hooded silhouette barely visible in the faint glow of the nearly-full moon.
“Excuse me, ma’am?” Celeste shouted, leaning over her daughter. “Are you stranded? Do you need a lift?”
She didn’t look up.
“Hello?” Celeste waved.
The woman was only a handful of yards away from the van now. From the red light of the van’s brake lights, Willow could see the holes in her jeans, the blackened toes that stuck out from her tattered sandals.
“Mom—” she started to say.
“Hello, ma’am?” Celeste called again. “Do you speak English? Do you need help?”
The woman stopped a few feet from the open window, slowly turning her head to look at them. Willow let out a soft gasp. Though she was young, perhaps only a few years older than Willow, her copper skin was haggard, and she had angry sores blossoming across her chapped lips. She gazed at them with the saddest, deadest eyes Willow had ever seen.
“Run,” the young woman whispered into the fog. A cold shiver ran down Willow’s spine.
“What did you say?” Celeste called, leaning on her daughter’s leg for support.
Just then, a knock sounded on the driver’s side window. As the door to the van tore open, Celeste and her daughter barely had time to scream.