She Has A Broken Thing Where Her Heart Should Be - J.D. Barker Page 0,24

else.

“I have no money, Jack. How could I possibly leave money for you? What purpose would that serve?”

“The envelopes all said Pip on them, like in your book. I know they came from you.”

“If you’re so certain, why are you asking the question?”

“I want to hear it from you. I want you to explain why.”

“Sounds like you want many things, Mr. Thatch. What do I get in return for addressing one or more of these wants?”

“If you don’t tell me, I’m gonna stop coming.”

“We both know that’s not true.”

“Auntie Jo and I do just fine. We don’t need your help. We don’t want it.”

“If you don’t want this money someone is leaving for you, then simply give it away. Give it to someone who does. I don’t imagine a willing recipient would be hard to find. If you don’t wish to take the time out of your busy little life to do that, just burn it. Rid yourself of this gruesome burden of wealth with the flick of a match. I don’t care. None of this nonsense matters in the slightest to me.”

“If you’re not leaving the money, then who?”

Stella shrugged. “I don’t follow the company you keep.”

In the distance, one of the SUVs roared to life. This was followed by a second. I watched as the people in long, white coats climbed into the vehicles, all but Ms. Oliver. She remained still.

“I’m afraid it’s time for me to take leave.”

“Wait!” I didn’t mean for the word to come out as loud as it did, with such a desperate edge to it. I reached over, meaning to grasp her arm, and she pulled away. She slid to the far end of the bench against the metal rail, her face turning a ghostly white. Her eyes darted from me to Oliver, then back again, and she seemed to regret the harshness of her movement. All at once, the stiffness left her, her color returned, and she smiled. There was something behind that smile, though, something I had yet to see, and even at this moment there was only a glimpse of it—fear.

She slid back toward me, back to the spot she had been. “You wish me to stay?”

“Yes.”

The corner of her mouth turned up slightly. “Good.”

She slid off the bench and started toward Ms. Oliver, toward the closest SUV. The old woman pointed back at the bench. “Don’t forget your flowers, Ms. Nettleton.”

“I don’t want them.”

“A boy gives you flowers, and you mustn’t ever leave them behind. They are to be received and cherished. The giving of life is precious and should never be taken for granted,” Ms. Oliver replied. “Pick them up.”

“I don’t want to.”

“Pick them up, Stella.”

Stella stood there for the longest time, glaring at Ms. Oliver. Ms. Oliver’s gaze did not falter. A silent conversation passed between them. Ms. Oliver raised a hand and pointed back at the bench. “Pick them up.”

Stella turned then and returned to the bench, her large brown eyes on mine as she reached for the asters beside me. Her fingers took hold of the bouquet, wrapping around the stems, and she picked them up and brought them to her side. As she turned, as she started back toward the SUV, toward the watchful eyes of Ms. Oliver, the white petals of the asters shriveled and curled in her hand, the yellow centers turned brown, the stems grew black. By the time Stella was halfway to the SUV, the flowers wilted and drooped, then dried to crumbling dust. The remains disappeared on the wind as Ms. Oliver opened the back door and ushered her inside. Not once did Stella look back at me.

They were gone a minute later.

I sat there, perfectly still, unsure of what I had just seen.

I didn’t hear the man come up from behind me.

A strong arm wrapped around my neck.

“The pressure you feel at the small of your back is a rather sharp knife. I strongly suggest you don’t struggle.”

The arm around my neck loosened only long enough for the hand at the end of it to come to my mouth and nose, a cloth. I smelled something sweet.

In the moment before I lost consciousness, my eyes drifted to the far corner of the bench, to the place Stella sat only minutes earlier, to the fresh words carved in the metal.

Help me

4

The dream.

Daddy fastened me into my car seat.

Chocolate milk.

Outside Auntie Jo’s apartment.

Daddy opened my door.

Daddy removed something from the seat beside me, gave it to Auntie Jo.

Something.

Unknown something.

Driving again.

White