31

THE PLAN

I get back from Cress’s house earlier than I’ve ever gotten back before. I’m kind of looking forward to hanging out with Stan, but it turns out he has to go to work for a big code conversion, so we won’t get to visit the Arboretum. I should be thrilled, but instead I kind of miss our goofy trip. I guess any routine can become something you count on over time.

After Stan leaves, Mom and Shailene huddle in the dining room, sorting through the huge pile of papers. “Once we get all of this organized, we’ll see what Renée has to say. She must know someone who’s willing to work pro bono.” Mom looks at me. “Can I help you?”

“You mean Renée, Cress’s mom?”

“Yes,” Mom says. “She’s going to connect Shailene with a family lawyer who can represent her if she needs to go back to court.”

“If I can afford it,” Shailene says. There are bundles of cash on the table, but I’m still stuck on the part where Mom has told Cress’s mom about Shailene and Billy.

“If you told Cress’s mom, why can’t I tell Cress?”

“Because Renée is an adult. She isn’t going to say anything that could cause problems.”

I cross my arms. “Just because we’re kids doesn’t mean we’ll mess up.”

Mom sighs. “I know that, honey. I need you to trust me on this.”

But I don’t. Part of me still thinks we should call Sheriff Dobbs and let him handle all of this. I’m not even convinced that we should be helping Shailene.

“You know she tricked him? She told Billy she worked for his dad. She kidnapped him.”

Mom’s mouth opens in horror. “Maddy!”

“No, it’s okay,” Shailene says. “I’d think the same thing if I was her.” She looks at me, but for once she’s not staring bloody murder. “Look, I haven’t always made the best choices. I know that. I’m sorry for taking him like that. I couldn’t leave him there another day.”

“Maybe you shouldn’t have left him there in the first place.”

Shailene’s jaw goes tight, but she doesn’t say a word.

“What’s done is done,” Mom says, giving me a pointed look. “Let’s stay focused on finding you a new place. I spoke with my friend at the Domestic Violence Center. She said to check with the Battered Women’s Ministry to see if they have any low-income housing options.”

Shailene says, “I can handle it,” but those words echo in my head.

Domestic violence. Battered women.

“I saw those scars on Billy’s arm,” I say, and Mom inhales sharply.

Shailene rubs a hand over her face. “I got married before I really knew Billy’s dad,” she says. “We had a baby, and I thought things might get better. Then I broke a plate and he broke my jaw.” She gives a small, sad laugh. “I knew he’d go after Billy once I was gone. I felt sick every single day, knowing he was there with that man. I’ll never forgive myself for that.”

My heart hurts, hearing all this, but before I can speak the doorbell rings.

We all jump half out of our skins.

A split second later, Billy barges into the kitchen from the garage, where Frankie is barking her head off. “It’s the police,” he says. “The police are here.”

There are moments when time seems to slow down. It’s like I’m inside a bubble where the sounds are muffled and the outside world is blurry. The only thing I can hear is the crash, crash, crash of the waves and my own heart beating like it’s trying to take flight. In these moments, it’s hard to move, the same way that it’s hard to move in a nightmare.

“Stay calm,” Mom says in her nurse’s voice, the one she uses when I’m bleeding or barfing. “Go sit down while I see what they want. Everything is going to be okay.”

I look at Billy. He’s clinging to his mother’s arm like a possum to a branch.

My fingers twitch, and my toes. I can move again. “Come on,” I say, and they follow me into the living room. Billy tucks in next to Shailene on the couch.

“I got you,” she says, her arm wrapping around him. “I got you.”

She did a bad thing, kidnapping him, but right now she looks like she would do anything to protect him. I used to think I knew what was bad or good, but now I’m not so sure. Maybe we’re never just good or just bad. Maybe we’re always a mix of both.

The front door opens, and we hear Mom’s voice and two others—a man and a woman—and then Mom’s walking into the living room with two uniformed officers behind her.

Billy’s eyes go wide and white.

“Good afternoon, ma’am,” the woman officer says. “We’re sorry to disturb you, but we need to inform you that your husband, Robert Holcomb, was arrested in Fayetteville early yesterday morning for violating your court order of protection.”

My heart ricochets in my chest. Mr. Holcomb was arrested.

I look at Billy, but he’s staring at the floor like he wants to disappear.

“You should also be aware that as of this morning, Mr. Holcomb has made bail and has been released pending a hearing on the court order violation.”

Billy’s eyes snap up. “You let him out?”

The male officer steps in. “Mr. Holcomb paid the assigned bail and was released this morning. If you hear from him again or if he comes within two hundred feet of you, he will be arrested and charged with further violation of the protection order.”

Shailene glares at the officer. “That didn’t stop him the first time.”

The female officer sighs in sympathy. “Well, hopefully he’ll think differently now that he’s spent a night behind bars.”

“There must be something else we can do,” Mom says.

The male officer frowns. “If you see him again, call us.”

They turn to leave, and Mom sees them out. A minute later, their car crunches along our gravel driveway. When Frankie stops barking, we know they’re gone.

Mom comes back into the living room with a plate of cookies, but there are shiny tracks on her cheeks, and her eyes have that too-bright sheen of tears.

“We should go,” Shailene says. “I have friends in San Francisco. We can go there.”

Mom shakes her head, but inside I’m wondering if maybe they should leave.

If Mr. Holcomb thinks they’re in the area, he could come here looking for them.

“I don’t want to go to California,” Billy says.

His voice trembles, and inside my chest, so does my heart.

Mom raises her hands. “Let’s all catch our breath, okay? No one has to go anywhere right this minute.” She looks at me, and I know what she’s thinking. We’re not letting them leave. We’re not losing anyone else.

“Are you sure about this?” Shailene asks.

It’s scary to think that Mr. Holcomb could be out there right now, looking for us, but if they leave, they’ll be on their own. They may not be family, but they are our friends.

I nod at Mom.

“Yes,” she says. “We’re sure. We’re sticking to the plan.”