tried to keep my voice even, still hoping that being congenial might earn me some information.
“It’s not her rule; it’s mine.”
I knotted my restrained fists in my skirt. Another MM vehicle flew by. I watched Chase tense, and I felt my face heat up.
“How embarrassing it must be for you to cart around reform-school trash,” I said quietly. His grinding jaw told me I’d hit the mark.
* * *
WE didn’t talk for over an hour. The silence took on a physical presence, a hammer, that bruised me again and again with the reminder that, despite all my memories, I was nothing to him.
It pounded me with new fears, too. What had the last two weeks been like for my mother? And what was going to happen tomorrow morning? Images filled my mind: her dragged into a courtroom in shackles, with Rosa’s empty eyes, while a bright, accusing spotlight pinned her in place. Her hands, marked with welts like mine. I shook my head, trying to rid myself of these thoughts, and glanced over at Chase.
What was wrong with him? Was he really going to pretend like I wasn’t sitting three feet away? Like our histories hadn’t been braided together since we were children? He was a soldier now, I got that. But he’d been human once, too.
Switching between anxiety and anger was exhausting, and yet I still found myself watching him, as if at any moment he’d confess this whole thing was some sick, twisted game.
The clock on the dash said 8:16 A.M. when I felt the van decrease in speed.
“Are we getting near Chicago?” I asked him, not expecting an answer. It seemed odd. I was poor at geography but had enough sense to know our trip had been too short. Plus, we’d taken a side road about twenty miles back and hadn’t passed any MM vehicles since that time. I would have thought there should be an increase in soldiers as we neared the base.
Even so, I felt a flutter of panic anticipating that my mother might be close; I still knew nothing of her trial.
The van curved off the highway down a single-lane ramp and stopped completely before turning right onto an isolated road. The weeds here had grown over the edges of the asphalt during the summer and then died in their tracks with the winter freeze. Dead branches littered our path. This area had not been maintained by city workers in a long time.
As the van slowed, my heart rate doubled.
“We are going to the trial, right?”
He exhaled. “There’s been a slight change of plans.”
My shoulders, which had been hunched over my restraints, jerked back sharply. “What do you mean?”
“There is no trial.”
My mouth fell open. “But the summons…”
Chase bore right again on a narrow dirt road. With every bump, the van jolted.
“It’s a fake.”
“You … faked an MM document?” I was baffled for only an instant before the floodgates opened. “Well, where is she then? She didn’t have a trial? Did they put her in rehab? Oh, God, was she hurt?”
“Don’t forget to breathe,” he said under his breath.
“Chase! You have to tell me what’s going on!”
There were dark shadows under his eyes that I did not understand. He looked to the side, as though the answer were hidden somewhere in the foliage, and then raked one hand through his black hair. I was getting a very bad feeling about all the things he wouldn’t say.
“I promised her I would get you out of there.”
“You promised—”
“My CO thinks I’m assisting with an overhaul in Richmond.”
I didn’t know what an overhaul was. I didn’t immediately understand why Chase was here when he’d been ordered to be somewhere else. None of it made sense.
“Is she still in jail?” I felt as if I were standing on the edge of a cliff, anticipating a horrible fall.
“No.”
The pieces came together too slowly in my impatient brain. My mother was free. I was free. Rebecca and Sean were right: There were no more trials. And as for Chase …
“You’re not a soldier anymore. You’re a
“It’s not her rule; it’s mine.”
I knotted my restrained fists in my skirt. Another MM vehicle flew by. I watched Chase tense, and I felt my face heat up.
“How embarrassing it must be for you to cart around reform-school trash,” I said quietly. His grinding jaw told me I’d hit the mark.
* * *
WE didn’t talk for over an hour. The silence took on a physical presence, a hammer, that bruised me again and again with the reminder that, despite all my memories, I was nothing to him.
It pounded me with new fears, too. What had the last two weeks been like for my mother? And what was going to happen tomorrow morning? Images filled my mind: her dragged into a courtroom in shackles, with Rosa’s empty eyes, while a bright, accusing spotlight pinned her in place. Her hands, marked with welts like mine. I shook my head, trying to rid myself of these thoughts, and glanced over at Chase.
What was wrong with him? Was he really going to pretend like I wasn’t sitting three feet away? Like our histories hadn’t been braided together since we were children? He was a soldier now, I got that. But he’d been human once, too.
Switching between anxiety and anger was exhausting, and yet I still found myself watching him, as if at any moment he’d confess this whole thing was some sick, twisted game.
The clock on the dash said 8:16 A.M. when I felt the van decrease in speed.
“Are we getting near Chicago?” I asked him, not expecting an answer. It seemed odd. I was poor at geography but had enough sense to know our trip had been too short. Plus, we’d taken a side road about twenty miles back and hadn’t passed any MM vehicles since that time. I would have thought there should be an increase in soldiers as we neared the base.
Even so, I felt a flutter of panic anticipating that my mother might be close; I still knew nothing of her trial.
The van curved off the highway down a single-lane ramp and stopped completely before turning right onto an isolated road. The weeds here had grown over the edges of the asphalt during the summer and then died in their tracks with the winter freeze. Dead branches littered our path. This area had not been maintained by city workers in a long time.
As the van slowed, my heart rate doubled.
“We are going to the trial, right?”
He exhaled. “There’s been a slight change of plans.”
My shoulders, which had been hunched over my restraints, jerked back sharply. “What do you mean?”
“There is no trial.”
My mouth fell open. “But the summons…”
Chase bore right again on a narrow dirt road. With every bump, the van jolted.
“It’s a fake.”
“You … faked an MM document?” I was baffled for only an instant before the floodgates opened. “Well, where is she then? She didn’t have a trial? Did they put her in rehab? Oh, God, was she hurt?”
“Don’t forget to breathe,” he said under his breath.
“Chase! You have to tell me what’s going on!”
There were dark shadows under his eyes that I did not understand. He looked to the side, as though the answer were hidden somewhere in the foliage, and then raked one hand through his black hair. I was getting a very bad feeling about all the things he wouldn’t say.
“I promised her I would get you out of there.”
“You promised—”
“My CO thinks I’m assisting with an overhaul in Richmond.”
I didn’t know what an overhaul was. I didn’t immediately understand why Chase was here when he’d been ordered to be somewhere else. None of it made sense.
“Is she still in jail?” I felt as if I were standing on the edge of a cliff, anticipating a horrible fall.
“No.”
The pieces came together too slowly in my impatient brain. My mother was free. I was free. Rebecca and Sean were right: There were no more trials. And as for Chase …
“You’re not a soldier anymore. You’re a
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