The Walls Have Eyes by Clare B. Dunkle Page A

wanted to cry.
    â€œShe doesn’t know you thought you were helping the recall when you sent Cassie away.”
    A full minute went by, while Martin stared at the wide, dark pond and listened to the
whiz-whiz
sound of Dad’s reel. The pond was a flat sheet on top, neat and tidy, but who knew what ugliness lay underneath.
    â€œYes, she does,” Dad said at last.
    â€œNo, she doesn’t!” Martin snapped. “You wouldn’t tell her. Even I haven’t told her, though I don’t know why, except that I just don’t want her to know.”
    â€œYour mom’s not stupid, son.”
    Dad reeled in his lure, which looked to Martin’s untrained eye like a tiny fish with enough hooks dangling from its midsection and tail to catch about six fish at once. If a creature were dumb enough to bite that thing, it deserved to end up in a pan. Dad paid out line, brought his pole back, and sent the dangerous little fish skimming out across the water.
    â€œWhat you have to understand,” Dad said, “is that I couldn’t do a thing about your sister. The recall notice came out, and there it was. The inspection was about to start. There was nowhere I could put Cassie to keep her safe, and Central always gets what they want.”
    â€œYou could have tried,” Martin muttered. He buried his hands in Chip’s thick, harsh fur and laid his hot face against his dog’s velvet forehead.
    Dad glanced over his shoulder, a habit based on a lifetime of cowardice. Martin wanted to laugh at the absurdity of it, but the pit of his stomach hurt.
    â€œIf I had moved Cassie out of her routine, your mother would have wanted to know why,” Dad said. “If she knew why, she would have fought to keep Cassie by every means she could think of. That wouldn’t have worked, and I would have lost them both.”
    Martin flicked a pebble into the water and watched it sink. “So you chose Mom over Cassie.”
    â€œNo!” Dad’s voice was loud enough to scare any nearby fish. “I couldn’t do a thing about Cassie. I didn’t choose between them. I just chose not to lose your mother, that’s all.” He choked, then cleared his throat. “Do you think I wanted that to happen to Cassie? She was my little girl.”
    Martin remembered Dad coming home and looking at them all, dragging his feet like a very old man. That was the night the recall notice must have come out, the night he had found out Cassie was doomed.
    â€œI don’t believe you,” Martin said, and his voice was tight. “I don’t believe there was nothing you could do. You could have tried. You never know till you try. There’s always something to do.”
    â€œThat’s good, son. I don’t want you to believe me. I don’t want you to know what it’s like to feel that you’ve run out of options.”
    Martin watched him reel and cast, and then reel and cast again. “So Mom knows?” he said.
    Dad blew his breath out in a long, quavering sigh. “Yes. As soon as the recall vote came up, she knew. I didn’t have to tell her. She really hated me there for a few days, but I didn’t mind. I pretty much hated myself. I was worried about what she might do to herself with you and Cassie both gone. Your mother lives for you kids, you know.”
    â€œYeah,” Martin said.
    â€œSo Cassie’s really fine?” Dad asked. “You didn’t just make that up? I . . . well, maybe I don’t deserve it, but I need to know.”
    â€œCassie’s doing great,” Martin muttered. “She’s having a great time at the school. Those kids finally have teachers smarter than them. I don’t have to make things up,” he added with a touch of scorn.
    â€œAnd . . . does she know about me? About what I did?”
    Martin glanced up. Dad’s face had that pinched, silly look on it again, the one that made Martin want to