pushed me down and I fell and she didn’t even care.”
“Becca—” This was awful in a way I couldn’t describe. Her face. How could her mom do that to her? How?
“It doesn’t even hurt anymore.”
She was lying. She had to be. And I wasn’t sad. I was angry, angrier even than when I’d thought Becca hated me. “We can’t do nothing. We have to tell some—”
“You promised you wouldn’t. You can’t take back a promise like that.” Her words were calm, but unyielding.
I hung my head. I had promised, but I didn’t think I could keep it. Not after seeing her like that. But I’d come up with something so Becca wouldn’t know it was me. I’d tell my mom not to say I told her. Even if Becca hated me forever. What her mom was doing wasn’t okay at all, and she couldn’t just get away with it.
“She tried to save me once when I was little,” Becca said.
“Who?” I said.
“The Red Lady, but I didn’t know it was her. She used magic to hide her real face. I know now, though. Lauren was too strong then, but she isn’t anymore.”
“What are you talking about? I don’t understand.” And I didn’t. The Red Lady had tried to save her? When? How? But she wasn’t even real.
“It’s okay,” she said. “We don’t have time for me to explain it anyway. There’s one last story I have to tell.”
I scowled. “But after this, no more, okay? No stories or pictures, like you promised?”
“After this, I won’t need to.”
She lit the candles and turned off the overhead light. Shadows danced on the wall, and soon enough, I could smell only the candles, all fruit–vanilla–pine trees. I sat with my arms and legs crossed, not wanting to hear the story, just wanting it to be over.
“The Red Lady’s friend, the one who helped her die fast instead of slow? She left the village in secret. When she came back, everyone was gone. She went to the Red Lady’s house and saw her there, waiting. She apologized and cried, saying she should have stopped everyone, she knew it was wrong, but the Red Lady said it was okay, she did what she could, and it was better now because she was stronger. They both were.
“Her friend said she’d tell everyone the whole story so it could never happen again, but the Red Lady said no, she had to promise not to. She didn’t want anyone to know. She said no one would believe her, and it was the truth. Then the Red Lady told her to go. When she got to the door, she looked back, but the Red Lady was gone.”
I rubbed away goose bumps. “Did she keep her promise not to tell?”
“She did. Because when you make a promise, you keep it forever. She thought about telling the story once and even started to, but stopped before she got to anything important. The next morning there were footprints by her bed. She knew it was the Red Lady, reminding her not to ever tell.”
“But wasn’t the Red Lady her friend?” I said. “She wouldn’t have really hurt her, would she?”
“Maybe, maybe not, but she didn’t want to take a chance.” Becca unfolded a corner of the towel, revealing a plastic baggie filled with reddish dirt and a small knife. “Don’t worry,” she said.
“I’m not,” I said, but I swallowed hard, my throat sandpaper. The knife had a dark wood handle and a small blade glimmering orange-yellow in the candlelight. My mom used one like it to peel vegetables. “What’s the dirt for?”
“It’s for later. Remember how the Red Lady will help you, but you have to give something up?”
“Uh-huh,” I said.
“She can grant your most secret wish—the one you never tell anybody, not even your best friend—but there’s a catch.” She bit her lip. “You have to die first.”
“That’s not funny, Becca.” My voice was shaking.
“It’s not supposed to be. I wanted to tell you before, but I was afraid you wouldn’t come back if you knew.” She stretched out on the towel and held out the knife. “You have to be my friend. Best friends forever, you said.”
“What are you talking about?”
She pulled up her shirt. Pointed to a spot on her side. “You have to do it right here. Right here exactly.”
“What?” I said, the word wavery. “You’re kidding, right?”
“I’m not. This is how it has to be done. Trust me, I won’t die. I mean, I might, but I’ll