face draining away.
Tears blur everything.
“Someone’s dying, Nicolette. Which one?” Papa’s question squeezes my body until I can’t stand the pressure anymore.
A world without Elijah. I can’t think of it. It’s too much. I can’t bear it.
“No…please!” The stranger puts his hands up to ward me off. I raise the knife, but he rolls away as I bring it down. I catch his back, and he howls.
“Not dead yet, girl,” Papa yells over the stranger’s scream. I yank the knife out, catching myself before I fall back from the force I have to use. He’s moving again, trying to get to his feet.
I slash the knife at him, stabbing his thigh. Again, he bellows in pain, still trying to get away. I jump to my feet and throw my body at him, knocking him back to the ground.
“Better hurry, girl. I’m losing my patience,” Papa demands. My heart slams its way out of my chest. Fumbling along the stranger’s body, I get hold of the knife sticking out of his thigh and yank.
“No!” he cries again, waving his arms at me. I’m sitting on him, straddling his hips just I do for Papa when he wants me to love him from on top.
I scream as I plunge the knife downward. The knife goes into his chest, but stops only halfway in. I’ve hit bone. Pulling it back out, I stab again, and again, until his arms lay lifelessly at his sides.
My hair falls out of my ponytail, covering my face. Blood splatter covers my arms, my face, my dress. I’m soaked with it.
“Good girl.” Papa lowers his rifle. “Get the knife,” he says, and Elijah rushes to my side, pulling the weapon from my hands.
I stare at the stranger. His eyes, still open, focus off into the distance, a silent scream frozen on his lips.
Death.
I’ve never been so close to it before.
“Mark. Go to the truck. Get the test.” Papa gives another direction. I climb off the dead stranger. My chest is heavy, numb, keeping my breath just out of reach.
“Up.” Papa fists my hair, yanking me to my feet. I cry out, but don’t try to stop him.
“Did you fuck him?” Papa shakes me.
“No! I promise, Papa! I would never!” I say, not knowing if it’s true or not. Isn’t that what women are for? Isn’t that what he would have expected eventually? Or not? He said things were different off this mountain.
“Your promises don’t mean shit anymore.” Papa yanks harder on my hair. I’m on my tiptoes, but still can’t stop the pain from spreading across my scalp.
“Here!” Mark runs across the yard, his voice carrying to us. He’s got a box in his hand.
“Now, we’ll see what’s to be done with you.” Papa shoves me at Elijah. “Hold her.”
Elijah grabs my arms. I try to stare into his eyes, to bring him back to me, but there’s an ice wall there. He spins me away from him and grabs the back of my neck, pinching hard. I can’t get away. I bring my shoulders upward.
Papa takes the box from Mark when he gets to us. Slinging his rifle over his shoulder, he tears into the box. He tosses torn off pieces of cardboard to the ground and pulls out the test kit.
Throwing it at my feet, he points. “Do it.”
Elijah shoves me to the ground so I can grab the test stick. My hands shake as I pull off the purple cap, revealing a thick strip beneath. I look to Papa for direction. How do I do this?
“You piss on it,” Papa says, annoyed at my stupidity.
I look at the house and take a tentative step. Mark steps in front of me.
“Here.” He folds his arms over his chest. I’ve seen him angry before, the harsh tick in his jaw is there, but the layer of disgust is new.
I nod. Anything I say will be twisted.
I pull up my dress and squat down, keeping my eyes focused on Papa’s feet. This morning, I wished for my belly to be empty. Now, I’d cut off my left thumb for this test to be positive.
Once I’m done, I recap the stick and stand up. Papa yanks it out of my hand.
“Kneel,” he says, pointing at the puddle I’ve made in the grass.
My legs wobble, but I manage to get to my knees without falling over. The warmth of the urine spreads across my bare skin.
Papa stares at the stick.
“Why would you do this, Nicolette?” Mark demands. I can sense the