I say I’m fine, but it doesn’t matter. Because I’m not fine. I’m numb. They make it worse when they touch me. I just want to be with everyone else. I want my mom. I want my family. But I’m alone. They knew right away I was raped, even though I told them it was nothing. They gave me a morning-after pill and I took it. I had to eat a full meal, and stay tonight to be monitored for side-effects. I didn’t even realize the pill was because I could have conceived. I just thought it’s what they gave to help with the pain, even though they told me the name of it. They explained it all to me. They gave me a choice. In the hospital, medicine is supposed to make things better, but not like this. The knowledge alone is enough to kill me and I wish it would. I could have aborted my child. His child, yes. But my child, too. I need to throw up, but I’m scared. I don’t want more people in this room. I can’t stand them touching me. The exam was enough.
Morgan curled on her side in the hospital bed, fighting the nausea that was stronger than ever. She tucked her journal beneath her pillow, grateful she had grabbed her backpack before the SWAT team forced them from the room.
Even now, hours afterward, she fought off contact like a wild animal. Though the staff was careful and gentle it didn’t matter. Morgan’s body was sore. Her spirit ached. She knew she could never tell anyone she’d taken that damn pill. It was enough guilt to eat her alive.
She had tried to close her eyes, and sleep, but each time his face filled her mind - and the shot echoed in her brain.
Restlessly, Morgan took the hair elastic from around her wrist and gathered her hair in a ponytail. Without a hat, it was the best she could do. She hated to feel her hair loose on her back. It made her remember, and feel dirty, and need to shower, though they had let her after the exam.
A sensation of panic rippled through her, as Morgan recalled that morning and orange shampoo. She saw Christian in her mind’s eye, forgotten at the daycare on campus, surrounded by Legos and wearing Libby’s coat, but all alone and scared in the dark.
She reached for the phone on the table by her bed, calling the only one of her friends she knew for sure was home.
“Legend.” Morgan managed through the ever-present nausea. Willing herself not to throw up, she asked, “Where’s Christian?”
On the other end of the call, Legend smiled sadly. “He’s right here. Want to say hi?” she asked, curious about Morgan’s reason for calling. She knew like many of her friends, Morgan was injured, though she didn’t know details, except that she had to stay the night.
“No, I just… I didn’t want him to…” Morgan tried, her head spinning.
“Morgan, it’s okay. He’s with me. We just got in,” Legend reassured, touching Christian’s hair softly with her bandaged hand. “You get some rest, and I’ll see you tomorrow.”
“Wait!” Morgan called, as she sensed Legend’s move to hang up. “How is everybody? Is anyone with Jess?”
Sighing, Legend tried to be patient. “I can’t talk to you about that at the moment, but I’ll call and get someone to stay with her,” she finished brightly, smiling down at Christian’s concern, and hanging up.
“At school, we got to make paint,” Christian said proudly, trying to make Legend smile. “Not like, regular paint. You know, like paint a picture? We got to mix it all and I did, and guess what? It made brown.” He made his voice softer. “And guess what? We never got to do that before, but today the teacher let us, because she had stress,” he finished seriously.
Legend hit some buttons on her phone, and answered Christian hurriedly. “That’s really cool that you made brown! Can you keep working on our Lego village?” she asked, gesturing to the room he shared with Jess. “I have to make some boring phone calls. But if you work really hard on the village until I come get you, I’ll order us pizza,” she promised. “Otherwise, I’ll have to cook,” Legend wrinkled her nose.
“Yuck! Okay, bye!” Christian called, taking off speedy fast to work on the village. He knew just where to put the Lego crocodile.
Once she was alone, Legend called for pizza. Then, she thought about options for her best friend. If Legend herself weren’t caring for Christian, she would have gone herself, but as it was, the little guy had been at daycare several extra hours, and though he was in wonderful spirits about making brown paint she was starting to sense his concern, and knew she’d have to address where Jess was, as well as everyone else he was used to seeing.
Legend counted people off in her head. Emily was staying with her family nearby, and in no state to be there for anyone. Liam, she knew, was with Libby at his apartment with Nate. Libby had been in and out of the hospital for apparent shock, where they learned she had been molested. Without confirmation, Legend assumed something similar had been done to Nate, but he had insisted he was fine - just sore from crouching for two hours. Closing her eyes, Legend wished someone had been more insistent with him, but no one had. There were worse injuries. Morgan had been fondled and most likely raped. She was in the hospital at least overnight for shock, Legend guessed. In addition to everything else, Morgan had witnessed a suicide, too. Bryan and Aaron had been treated and released for their injuries. Bryan’s shoulder was just a flesh wound, and Aaron’s foot was broken. She herself had been in and out to have glass from the window removed from her hand. Jonathan needed stitches in his face, and a transfusion because he lost so much blood waiting for help. He was still hospitalized, and so was Coby, who needed surgery on his leg. Jess was lying in ICU in a coma, alone, because she had no family.
--
Emily hadn’t been able to stop shaking. Even now, at home with her parents and her brother, Miles. She couldn’t eat supper, and didn’t know why her mom even bothered to cook. The news had been on ever since she got home, and they were playing the same clip of Aaron talking and saying the same things over and over, and showing Buddy’s picture. The first time Emily had seen it, she broke down, begging her parents to turn the television off.
Still, now there was silence. That was even harder to endure than the noise the TV made. Emily heard news helicopters and sirens for a long time. Their phone rang constantly. It was always either family, or Bryan with an update on one of their friends. Her dad insisted on picking up all the calls, and that was fine with Emily. She didn’t want to talk to anyone.
She was sitting on the couch wrapped in a blanket when her mom came in with a plate of food. The sight of it made Emily’s stomachache that she’d had all day just get worse.
“Here, honey. You should eat something,” Bev encouraged, sitting down beside her daughter.
Emily shook her head. “I’m not hungry.” She hadn’t had anything to eat all day and couldn’t force herself to eat anything now.
When her mom got up off the couch to go back to the kitchen, Emily followed. They walked right into an argument between Miles and her dad.
“But we know she’s fine! Why can’t I just go hang out until curfew?” Miles complained. His dad’s logic was bogus. He had to stay home because of what was going on when it was obvious Emily was okay, just shaken up.
“I don’t care if he goes out,” Emily put in quietly. She couldn’t deal with her dad and brother butting heads right now.
“I care if he goes out!” Patrick snapped. “We are staying home as a family, and that’s the end of it.” He saw his daughter flinch at his intensity, and was startled. Had this been yesterday, Emily would have jumped right in the argument and defended her brother’s right to freedom to the absolute end. Now, she was shaking, sticking close to her mother.
Softening, he extended a hand. “Em, I’m sorry. This whole thing’s got me crazy.”
“I know,” she agreed, trembling in her dad’s arms.
Then, he backed down, letting Miles go out. Once Dad said no, that was it, he never changed his mind. Miles usually didn’t challenge authority, and her mom sure as heck didn’t go around offering plates of food after supper was over. If you didn’t eat when the family ate, you went hungry. It had been a rule since Emily was a toddler. But rules seemed not to apply anymore.
Emily was confused. This wasn’t like her family. This thing had changed them all into people she didn’t recognize.
When Miles slammed the front door after himself, Emily hit the floor, covering her head, as a terrified scream escaped her. As her parents helped her off the kitchen floor, Emily knew that her parents and brother weren’t the only people who had changed.
Right now, Emily couldn’t even recognize herself.
--
Liam was pacing the living room when his phone rang. He snatched it up, hoping to God it was his parents. He saw Legend’s name instead, and said hello.
“Hey, Liam. How’s it going?” she asked wearily.
“Libby’s asleep in my room, and Nate’s in his. I don’t know what he’s dong. I think they should eat something, but I don’t want to wake Libby up. I’m gonna keep her here tonight and crash in Jonathan’s room.”
“Sounds good,” Legend agreed, though she was only half-listening. “Do you know of anyone who could run up to the hospital and stay with Jess? I’d go myself but I have Christian. Everyone else is kind of out of commission.”
“Let me give you my friend, Gabe’s number. He met Aaron last week at church. I talked to him earlier and he’s more than willing to help out in any way.”
A thump against the wall made Liam turn. Quickly, he passed on Gabe’s number and hung up the phone. Irritated, he made his way to Nathaniel’s room and knocked on the door before pushing it open.
Nate was there, dressed in the same blue jeans and black tee shirt he had worn to classes, pacing the room like a caged animal. Liam ducked as one of Nate’s many pairs of dress shoes was hurled his way. The shoes bounced of the hallway wall.
“What are you doing?” Liam demanded, looking around. Nate’s usually immaculate floor was littered with pillows, shoes and books.
Helplessly, Nate picked up the nearest object - the spare coffee cup that held his pens - and sent it crashing toward Liam.
“Hey, stop.” Liam stepped toward Nate. He didn’t need Libby waking up scared or something because Nathaniel was having a tantrum.
“Stay away from me,” Nate choked. His mom and Joey said they were coming, but he needed them now. His skin was crawling, and he was still in horrible pain. Nothing was making sense. This couldn’t have really happened.
Except that Nate had looked. He’d seen the bruises on himself - the redness left on Libby’s face from where she’d been slapped. All of it made Nate feel out of control. The last thing he needed right now was Liam in his face.
“You can’t do this. Libby’s sleeping, and I won’t have her waking up scared because you’re pissed off.” When Nate reached for his clothes hamper, Liam stepped up, grabbing his arms and squeezing. The basket fell between them on the floor. “You can’t do this,” he repeated lowly.
The tension left Nate’s body and Liam let go.
Stumbling back, Nate sat on the bed, cursing the pain it caused. Defeated, he held his head in his hands, as tears fell silently. He flinched as Liam shut the door behind himself to go check on his sister.
Libby was the important one, he knew. To Liam, she needed care, while Nate was intruded on and handled in a way that made him want to throw up. Then, he was left alone.
--
Minutes later, Legend was dialing an unfamiliar cell phone number, and waiting for someone she didn’t know to answer. She looked at her watch. Only a few more minutes until the pizza arrived, and Christian was being so good.
“Hello. This is Gabriel,” he answered when he saw just a number in his caller ID and no name.
“Gabe? This is Legend Miller. Liam gave me your number, said that you were up for helping out?” she asked. She talked easily, setting out paper plates and cups for juice.
Exhaling hard, Gabe looked at Aaron and Bryan. He’d picked them both up from the hospital, and stayed with them since. He couldn’t just leave them here, one with a broken foot and the other with his arm in a sling. Aaron was parked on one end of the couch, his foot propped up on a kitchen chair, and Bryan sat on the other end, his arm cradled to his chest, his face expressionless.
The TV was on Disney Channel and the most-recent movie was blaring - the volume turned up to an obnoxious level. Worse, in Gabe’s opinion, it wasn’t just a movie, but a teen musical, and in this special airing, the viewing audience was taught dance moves at an excruciatingly slow pace. He studied Bryan and Aaron, knowing neither was even watching the show, though both looked to be intensely focused in the direction of the screen.
“Hey,” Bryan called half-heartedly, tossing a pillow at Aaron. “Aren’t you gonna practice your moves?”
But Aaron didn’t even smile, and Gabe felt sure that yesterday, he would have not only smiled, but been up and doing the entire routine.
“Hey, Legend. Nice to meet you,” he greeted warmly. “I’m actually at Aaron and Bryan’s right now. But listen. Let me give you my girlfriend’s number. Her name is Belle Sutton. She can help you out, I’m sure. How are you doing?”
“Not too bad, considering,” she admitted. “I just need somebody to stay with my best friend at the hospital. She doesn’t have family at all, and I’m here with her son. He’s too young to take.”
“Call Belle,” he recited the number. “She’ll take care of your friend.”
“Thank you so much,” Legend said, relieved. She didn’t care that she didn’t know who either of these people were. There were well-meaning people everywhere.
Quickly, she put Belle’s number in her phone and saved it, knowing she might well need it again, and called.
“Hello, this is Belle,” she answered, sounding friendly.
“Belle? I just talked to Gabe. This is Legend Miller. He knows Liam and Aaron, a couple of my friends?” she tried, hoping this girl didn’t think she was crazy.
“Legend? It’s nice to meet you. How are you doing?”
Smiling, Legend could see why Belle and Gabe got along so well. They both had Southern accents and manners to boot, not to mention big hearts.
“I actually need to ask kind of a big favor. Liam said Gabe was up for helping, but he’s with two of my other friends, and I need someone to stay with my best friend at the hospital. I’d go myself, but she’s a single mom and I’ve got her four-year-old. I wouldn’t ask, but she has no other family.”
Belle took a deep breath and let it out. Hospitals and her didn’t do well together. The first time she’d been in one, visiting Alex two years before, she’d literally bolted. But since then, she had spent time as a patient herself, and understood firsthand how important caring people were to someone’s recovery.
Grabbing her coat off the back of the couch, Belle ran out the door and down the hall to reach her car in record time. “It’s no problem. What’s her name?”
“Jessica Gray. Everyone calls her Jess,” Legend managed, her throat closing a little.
“Jess. Okay. Anything else I should know?” she asked, starting the car.
Legend thought about this, wanting to pass on familiar information to urge Jess back to consciousness. What would she tell Jess if she were there? “Her son’s name is Christian. Sometimes she calls him CJ. He’s four years old, and he painted today - mixed all the colors up and made brown. She made spaghetti for us for Monday Madness and it was amazing. Tell her we’re all okay, and we’ll be in to see her as soon as we can.”
“Okay,” Belle managed. Her own throat constricted at all she was told. It made Jess more a person, and less of a name. “Can I ask why she’s there? What happened to her?” Belle tried gently.
“She was shot,” Legend said, dropping her voice, though she could hear Christian making crocodile sounds in the other room. “She’s in a coma.”
Belle closed her eyes. “Okay. So the familiar stuff is important.”
“Yeah. The familiar stuff’s important,” Legend echoed, her eyes falling on the note Jess left on the fridge less than eight hours before. Tears filled her eyes as she read Jess’s last message to them - her family, and her son:
I’LL BE HOME LATE, BUT I’LL BE HOME.
LOVE, MOM (JESS)
--
“What does Mom’s note say?” Christian asked, carefully picking off all the pepperonis from his pizza and setting them on the table beside his plate.
Legend swallowed around the lump in her throat. “It says she’ll be home late,” she managed.
Christian nodded. “She telled the that this morning,” he remembered. “Where’s everybody?” he wanted to know. The rest of the time, when it wasn’t their special meal together with all their friends, Mom always told him where all of them were and what they were doing, even the big boys, if he asked.
Closing her eyes, Legend prayed for strength, grateful to her daddy for calling earlier in the day, and praying with her, as she drove to pick Christian up - that she would have the right words to explain to him what happened, without scaring him.
“Listen, sweetie, I have to tell you something,” Legend pushed her plate away, knowing she wouldn’t be able to eat anymore.
He glanced up quickly, and then went back to stacking his pepperonis in a tower because they burned his mouth. “Like about where they are?” he asked, distracted, as one pepperoni started falling.
“Right,” Legend agreed, and waited until Christian raised his head, and looked at her with his mom’s eyes. “Something bad happened at school today,” she told him.
Christian’s eyebrows furrowed, as he pounded the falling pepperoni on top of the tower with his fist. “Nothing bad happened at my school,” he said, in case she didn’t know.
“No, I know,” she agreed, “At college,” she clarified and took a breath, deciding to speak in terms Christian would understand. “Today, when all the big girls and big boys were doing homework, a bad guy came in the room where we were,” she told him seriously.
Hearing this, Christian’s head came up, and he focused on the big band-aid thing on Legend’s hand. “My mom did all her homework,” he said in a small voice. He didn’t want his mom to be in a room with a bad guy.
Smiling softly, Legend nodded. “You’re right, but she had a big test to study for.” She got up, and came around the table, settling the little boy in her lap. “Anyway, the bad guy hurt some of us, and made us all feel scared.”
“Did he hurt your hand?” Christian wondered, touching the big band-aid gently.
“Yeah, but it’s going to be okay.” Legend reassured him, squeezing his little warm body.
Christian turned big eyes to Legend. “Where’s my mom?”
“She’s in the hospital trying very hard to get better, because her head got hurt.” Legend told him matter-of-factly, gritting her teeth to keep her own emotions at bay.
“And then she’ll be better and come back. That’s why she said on her note she’s gonna be late?”
“Maybe,” Legend allowed.
Wiggling to get down, he turned to look at Legend. Her face looked sad. “Wanna come see our village? I made the crocodiles guarding it so no bad guys can get in,” he told her, feeling sure that would make her feel better.
“That’s great,” Legend agreed, trying to smile as the phone started to ring. “I’ve got to put the pizza away and get the phone. Why don’t you bring some crayons out here so you can draw where I can see you.” Legend suggested, reaching for the phone.
“Hello?” she asked, tossing plates and pepperoni in the trash, and closing the pizza box, knowing they would need leftovers without Jess around to cook.
“Is Morgan there?”
Legend’s heart sank. She knew this voice. She’d talked to Jason a week ago. Now his voice was thick and he was crying.
“Hey, Jason. It’s Legend,” she said gently. “Morgan’s at the hospital, but she’ll be home tomorrow.”
“Did she get shot?” he cried, twisting the phone cord around his hand. No one was home except for him. His mom and dad were talking to the police about putting Kate in jail for driving drunk. Alyssa went to a friend’s, and Jason never knew where Pete was. He couldn’t get a hold of anyone. He turned on the news and saw his sister’s picture with all her friends, while the news anchor talked about some guy going in the room Morgan was in and shooting everybody.
“Honey, no. Okay? I promise.” Legend reassured. “Where are your mom and dad?” she asked.
“Talking to some cops about putting Kate in jail for drunk driving,” he managed. “Pete’s gone, and Alyssa’s at her friend’s house.” Jason wiped his face, and stared at the pot of macaroni and cheese he was making. Morgan had taught him how to mix in tuna and peas to make it more exciting. “Are you sure she didn’t get shot?” he pressed. “The news guy said everyone did!”
Legend blinked back tears, not able to imagine how it must be to be twelve and alone, watching news about something so horrible. “Not everyone. Morgan’s okay. You know how strong she is, better than anyone else. She’s just shaken up, and they’re keeping her overnight to make sure she’ll be okay. I promise she’ll call you tomorrow.” Legend’s heart ached and she so badly wanted to jump in her truck and drive the two hours to be with Jason, so he wouldn’t have to face this alone. “Is there anyone who can stay with you right now?”
On the other end of the call, Jason cried helplessly. “No, they’re all gone. I told you.”
Wracking her brain, Legend tried to think of friends from home, relatives, anyone that might be able to go over, and offer some comfort. “I’m going to get your parents on the phone and tell them what’s going on,” Legend decided.
“Okay,” Jason sniffed.
“I want you to go downstairs and skate until I call you back, okay?” Legend told him, grateful beyond words for the conversations and terminology she had overheard Morgan and Liam discuss. And that she knew, courtesy of Morgan, the name of Jason’s most-recent trick. She needed to keep him occupied. “See how many ollies you can do in a row. Count.”
“But I’m making supper,” he objected weakly.
“That’s okay, just turn off the stove and go down to the basement and skate. I want a number when I call back, I’m serious,” Legend told him, in her all-business only-child voice.
“If you talk to Morgan, tell her I love her,” Jason pleaded.
“I will, sweetie. Go on, now.” Legend urged.
Breathing a sigh of relief when he hung up, Legend scanned the list of emergency numbers they had taped on the inside of a set of cupboard doors. It included the boys’, and thanks to Jess it had been alphabetized and duplicated, and all three households had a copy in the event of an emergency.
Scanning the list, Legend’s eyes fell on the name she was looking for, written in Jess’s handwriting. Divina Davis - Morgan’s mom. It listed her cell, home, and work numbers. Legend could only assume Divina had had her phone turned off during all the commotion or she would have certainly heard about what was going on with her eldest daughter.
Praying she would answer, Legend dialed.
“Hello?” a woman’s accented voice answered - both annoyed and concerned. “Morgan, we need you home this weekend, no questions, okay? Kate’s in trouble again.”
Legend blinked. “Ma’am?” she tried. “This is Legend Miller, Morgan’s roommate. There’s been a situation here on campus, and I just took a call from Jason. He’s very upset and needs someone to be with him.”
“Alyssa and Peter are with him,” she argued, hurriedly signing more documentation. Surely a night or two in jail would scare their daughter straight.
“No, ma’am, they’re not. He’s alone, and he needs someone with him. If you and your husband can’t be, do you know of anyone who he could stay with until you come back?”
“Tell him to go to the neighbor. He knows that already.” She was irritated. She had enough going on without Jason, her good boy, having a problem, too.
“Morgan’s in the hospital up here,” Legend blurted, incredulous that they really didn’t know.
“What? What happened to her?” Divina asked, alarmed now and rubbing her forehead.
Legend cast a glance at Christian, belly-down on the linoleum, scribbling furiously on a piece of notebook paper with a red crayon.
“They’re keeping her overnight for observation. Please get home and turn on the news,” she begged, before hanging up to call Jason again.
After that, the phone went crazy. Calls from everyone’s parents and extended family - who had been given this number as “Grand Central” to call in case something came up - came in constantly. Frantic parents wondering how each of the kids were, especially if that child’s phone was turned off. Legend swore she was going to hear from everyone’s family before the night was over, and in desperation, as Christian disappeared into the living room with a crayon, Legend called Belle again.
“Hey, Legend,” Belle said. She had already been added to Belle’s list of phone contacts. “I’m still on the road. Traffic’s backed up pretty bad and it’s snowing, but I’m on my way,” she promised.
Legend smiled. “That’s great. But listen. You don’t happen to have another friend around in reserve or something, do you? I need back-up here. The house phone’s ringing off the hook and Christian just left my line of sight, with a crayon, but no paper. You think someone could come by and man the phone? Just give a general statement to everyone’s families who keep calling?” Legend scanned the living room quickly, looking for his curly head.
Elise’s face immediately came to mind. “Sure,” Belle agreed. “I’ll get Elise on the line, hold on.”
Switching to three-way, Belle called and waited. When she heard Elise’s voice, she explained the situation, and as she expected, Elise agreed to come by and help. Not knowing the bus route to the particular part of town, Elise went to one of her snow-shoveling houses, and asked for a lift - stating that she had a bit of an emergency. Miss Nola took her, no questions asked.
Legend was never more relieved a half-hour later when a knock sounded on their door. She had Christian hard at work, scrubbing his artwork off the wall behind the couch.
“Stay here,” Legend ordered wringing out the dishrag for the millionth time and handing it to Christian before going to answer the door.
“Hi, thank you so much!” Legend greeted, throwing her arms around the unfamiliar girl who identified herself before the door was opened.
Elise was pretty. She wore her long, blonde hair with bangs, and her face was open and friendly. Her blue jeans had colorful flowers and jewels embroidered on one leg, and Legend recognized them as some she had seen out shopping recently. The shirt she wore was plain and gray with the name of a motor oil company on the front. Legend smiled, suspecting this girl probably had an older brother she was close to. Her eyes were gray and matched her shirt. Legend could never completely let go of the jealousy she had of people with such pretty color in their eyes. She often envied her mother’s blue eyes as a child and wished she had been born with those, instead of her daddy’s brown ones.
“No problem,” Elise answered. “Where’s the phone?”
Wordlessly Legend led her to the kitchen where she had set up the table with the cordless, a notepad and a pen.
“So I just need you to write down whose relative it is that calls and let them know that for now, everyone is hanging in there. We’ll get back to them as soon as we can.”
Elise nodded, grateful that her job was simple. “Whose residence should I say it is?”
Legend grinned, though Christian had started carrying on in the living room. “Just say ‘Hello, Grand Central,’ then they’ll know they got the right place.”
Elise nodded. “Got it.” She dismissed Legend to tend to the screaming little boy, who obviously didn’t like cleaning up after himself.
--
Once Christian finished scrubbing the wall, Legend deposited the little Picasso in the tub. She washed his hair quickly, and left the door ajar and went to the kitchen where she could hear Elise calling her.
Covering the mouthpiece, Elise whispered, “What about news people?”
Legend shook her head. She was getting a headache. “Just hang up. Nobody here can deal with them right now,” she decided, and returned to where Christian was playing with his shampoo like a toy, completely ignoring the assortment of little plastic men and a boat waiting to be played with.
When he got out, and Legend was helping him dry off, she saw he was still clutching the shampoo.
“Hey, what do you have that for? We need to keep that in the tub, so it doesn’t make a mess.”
“No, I want it,” Christian whined. He snatched his Spiderman underwear and pajamas away from Legend and ran with nothing on, past the phone girl in the kitchen and into his room, where he hurried to put everything on, so he could keep the shampoo with him and no one could take it away.
From the kitchen, Elise smiled as she watched Christian streak from the bathroom to his room clutching a little orange bottle of kids’ shampoo. The phone had been quiet a few moments for a change.
“Need help?” she asked as Legend raced by.
“No thanks, I got it,” she answered.
“Christian Jesse,” she warned, watching the little boy stare up defiantly with the shampoo. “What did I say?” She scared herself at how easily her hands went to her hips.
“I don’t care! You’re not my mom!” he screamed, hugging the shampoo as he remembered his mom whispering to him in the morning before she went away from him and got hurt by the bad guy. She told him Morgan used his shampoo, and she smiled. That was the last thing of his mom and he wasn’t letting Legend be mean and take it away. He scrambled up on the bed with it, stuffing it under his shirt.
Legend took a breath, attempting to be calm. “You need to put that back, Christian. It’s going to get all over the bed and make a mess.”
“No!” he screamed.
When Legend reached for it, Christian bit her hand covered in the big band-aid. He made the bite as hard as he could, and only felt a little bad when he saw Legend was crying like him. It was sad when moms went away and got hurt by bad guys.
Elise got up from the table, leaving the phone to ring unanswered. She heard raised voices and crying. Stopping at the doorway of the room, Elise blinked at the sight of Christian huddled in the big bed, hoarding the shampoo under his pajamas, and Legend weeping quietly as she held her already-injured hand.
“Watch him,” Legend managed. “I need to wash this. He bit me here.” Excusing herself, Legend went to the sink in the kitchen and unwound the bandage and the gauze from her hand. It already throbbed, but now it was so much worse. Legend worried as she scrubbed that a bite on a fresh wound could easily get infected, especially from a human bite. Though she’d had layers of protection, and couldn’t even see indentations from Christian’s teeth, Legend was concerned.
That was all, she told herself, wiping her eyes, and rewrapping her hand. It was just a crazy day and she needed to sleep. Instead, she leaned against the counter on her elbows, cradled her head in her hands and let herself cry, while a wonderful goodhearted stranger cared for her best friend’s son the way Legend wasn’t able to after only a few hours.
--
Amy Barrett knocked at the door of her son’s apartment and waited, as Joey put an arm around her shoulders. It had been a horrible day. She’d taken call after call from Joey while Nathaniel was still trapped in that room. Joey had assured her that he was all right, but Amy knew she wouldn’t believe it until she saw him with her own eyes. She didn’t know how anyone could be fine after an ordeal like these kids had been through.
The door was pulled open, and Amy studied Nathaniel for a second, before pulling him into a hug. He was hobbling a bit - moving like it hurt.
For a while the three of them stood in the doorway, their arms wrapped around each other. Finally, Amy pulled away and Nate stepped aside, inviting his family in.
“Are you okay?” Amy wanted to know, holding her son’s face in her hands. She still wasn’t used to looking up to see his face. He was her first little baby, and had grown up to be so tall and handsome.
“I’m fine,” Nate lied, avoiding his mom’s eyes. But when she moved to take her coat off and go sit on the couch, he stayed near her, holding her hand as she walked across the room.
Amy got comfortable on one end of the long couch and patting the spot next to her. Immediately, Nate sprawled out, laying his head in his mom’s lap. He was grateful when she didn’t comment on it, but just touched his hair gently.
“It’s okay now. Mom’s here,” she told him, wishing she could have been there to absorb some of the horror he’d had to see.
Nate stiffened as he felt someone grab his leg at the ankle. He kicked hard, flashing back to the memory of Buddy ripping his jeans down to around his ankles.
He couldn’t hear anything, only the blood that rushed in his ears.
“Nate,” Amy said, trying to get her son’s attention. “It’s just Josiah. He’s taking your shoes off.”
At Nate’s feet, Joey deftly avoided getting kicked and removed his brother’s shoes. “Sorry. I’m sorry,” Joey apologized once he was done, and sat beside their mom on the arm of the couch. But he doubted Nate could hear him. His eyes were wide and frightened. There were tears on his face.
Instinctively, Amy knew not to pry. She knew enough from her children’s early life that it was important to let them talk when they were ready. Unfortunately, this wasn’t the first time her oldest had been through a trauma. In middle school, he’d been badly bullied and was scared to go to school. He was being physically attacked by older kids and called horrible names because they could tell he was different. Amy had done all she could for him. Eventually, they moved and started fresh in another city. Nate did better.
Joey was leaning against her shoulder talking to his brother quietly. “Me and Mom are gonna hang out here for the night, okay? Is that cool?”
Amy studied the deep blue eyes of her younger son and knew Nate had told him more than she knew. Joey was wise in a lot of ways, and he had an instinct about how to treat people who were hurt. Amy suspected it stemmed from seeing his brother come home from school with cuts and bruises on him daily when Joey was only a third grader.
Nodding, Nate shifted a little as his pain intensified. He hurt all the time, no matter what position he was in.
“Joey, do you want to go see if Liam or Libby needs anything?” Amy wondered. She worried about the rest of the kids, but knew she couldn’t leave her own right now.
“Sure,” Joey agreed easily and got up. He stuck his head in doorways until he found Liam’s room. Libby was in the bed and Liam was sitting beside her holding her hand.
“Hey,” he greeted softly in case Libby was asleep. “You guys need anything?”
“Hey Joey,” Liam said. He was so tired and it was only eight o’clock. “No thanks, I think we’re fine.”
Nodding, Joey excused himself and went back to his brother.
He wasn’t sure how he could be this calm when Nate was so screwed up. Joey wondered what he meant by the text messages. What kind of sex stuff? Without asking, Joey knew that Nate had had stuff done to him. It was all over his face when Joey surprised him by taking his shoes off.
Times like this, Joey wished the guy who did this was still alive. He’d like to have killed him himself for all the crap he’d done to Nate and all his friends. They didn’t deserve to be hurt like this. Especially Nathaniel. He’d had enough pain in his life already.
Sitting next to his mom again on the arm of the couch again, Joey looked at Nate and found himself remembering all the ways his older brother had been there for him. If Joey was honest, he respected Nate more than he did his own father - he was more of a father than Joey ever had. They did brother stuff together, but Nate was always after him to do well in school. To put as much effort into that as he did into hockey and every other sport he played. Recently, Joey started to take the advice to heart.
When Nate was still at home, and Joey found himself in a tough situation, he always called Nathaniel. He never called their mom.
“I made some good saves in practice,” Joey said softly. He wanted to take Nate’s mind away from whatever he was thinking of. His mom had told him that under no circumstances were either of them going to talk to Nate about what had gone on, unless he brought it up. So Joey talked about hockey, and hoped it was helping.
When Nate reached up silently, taking Joey’s shirt sleeve and holding on, Joey knew he was doing something right. He kept talking until he couldn’t anymore, and his mom finally sent him in to lie down.
--
Amy sat there until Nate started to doze off several hours later. Then, she coaxed him up, and they went to his room, where Joey was already asleep in his sleeping bag on the floor, having moved an apparent mess to one corner of his brother‘s room. Books, shoes and pens were all in a pile. She had planned to sleep on the couch, but when Amy moved to leave, Nate grabbed her hand urgently.
“Where are you going?” he asked, panic edging his voice.
So Amy got comfortable, one arm across Nathaniel, just like when he was a little boy. She woke hours later because he was thrashing in the covers so much and found him crying in his sleep.
She woke him gently, touching his forehead. “Honey, it’s Mom.”
“It hurts so bad,” he managed.
Amy left, assuring Nate that Joey was still in the room, sleeping, and got something for him. She had no idea if he was really hurt or was dreaming, but Amy doubted two extra-strength painkillers would do him any harm.
On her way back to her boys, Amy stuck her head in the other two rooms. In one, Liam slept peacefully, and in the other Libby sat, wide awake in the middle of the bed.
“Hey, sweetie, it’s Amy,” she called softly.
Libby blinked at the shape in the doorway, relieved when the light was switched on, and she could see it really was Nate’s mom. Liam had been with her all day, even that night until she fell asleep, but now he was gone, and she was alone.
“Amy?” Libby asked. Her voice was still thick from crying. She hadn’t really stopped since she came home. “I can’t sleep. Can I be with you guys?” she asked. Libby knew it was stupid, but she was desperate to be near somebody’s mother, anybody’s, since she couldn’t be with her own.
“Sure,” Amy agreed and extended a hand. Libby’s felt like ice, and on the way back to Joey and Nate, Amy got the sleeping bag she had brought along and unrolled it on the floor near Joey.
Libby hedged outside the door nervously as Nate’s mom gave him medicine and got a sleeping bag set up on the floor. She was so tired and scared, she couldn’t think straight.
Amy went to the doorway and took her hands, whispering. “Come on, sweetie. You can sleep down here by Joey, okay? Is that all right?” Amy asked.
Nodding, Libby slid into the sleeping bag, still wearing the purple sweatshirt and frayed jeans she had changed into at the hospital. They were what Liam brought her to wear, and they felt safe. They smelled like him, and made her glad she kept a set of clothes at her brother’s place.
Amy bent and kissed Libby’s forehead. “Try to get some sleep, okay? I’ll be right up here if you need anything.”
Nodding, Libby scooted herself closer to Joey, who was snoring, and fell into a fitful sleep.
--
Bryan woke up in the middle of the night, his shoulder throbbing. He made his way through the living room, surprised to find Gabe crashing on their couch. Irritated, Bryan went over, and poked him awake.
Gabe woke fast. “Yeah? What is it?”
“Told you to sleep in Coby’s room, didn’t I?” Bryan asked.
“The couch is fine,” Gabe assured him. He’d stuck his head in Coby’s room and didn’t feel comfortable sleeping somewhere with such a horrible mess, and so much red and black. It was a little disconcerting.
“There’s a free bed and you’re a guest,” Bryan maintained seriously. When Gabe didn’t move, Bryan persisted. “Are you gonna go, or am I gonna have to tuck you in myself?”
Gabe smiled, relenting. “Fine, I’m going. Thanks.” He turned. “You doing okay? Need anything?”
“I’m fine,” Bryan assured, though it wasn’t true. His shoulder was giving him so much trouble. He never knew how much someone’s shoulder played a part in their being able to sleep comfortably.
Walking to the kitchen, Bryan stumbled back and clutched his chest. Aaron was sitting at the table, drinking coffee and watching news with the TV muted.
“The hell are you doing?” Bryan asked, getting his breath back.
Aaron shrugged. “I called the hospital. They won’t tell me anything, but word on the news is Coby’s out of surgery. Jess is still hanging in there.”
Bryan nodded. “That’s good.” Stepping past Aaron, he took the cup of coffee and dumped it down the sink. This guy didn’t need caffeine to add to their already-fried nerves. Bryan ought to know.
“What are you doing up?” Aaron asked. He hadn’t even gone to bed. Every time he blinked he saw Nathaniel in his mind, or Jon bleeding all over his shirt.
“Shoulder,” Bryan admitted, checking his watch. It was ridiculous that he’d been grazed by a bullet and the medical personnel thought a common painkiller would do the job. Bryan wanted something hardcore. Hell, they’d given him better stuff when he got his wisdom teeth out.
“You kick Gabe off the couch?” Aaron asked, peering into the living room.
“Yeah. Made him sleep in Coby’s room. He’s a guest.”
Aaron rolled his eyes. “So why’d you give him Coby’s room? It’s a sty. And what’d you dump my coffee for?” he demanded, realizing his cup was gone when he reached for it and saw it had disappeared.
“It’s four in the morning. You don’t need coffee,” Bryan maintained. He opened their meager medicine cupboard and shook out two aspirin. Who cared what time it was? “I’m going back to bed. You should crash at some point, too,” he advised.
But Aaron waved him off. He was still awake when Gabe got up three hours later.
--
Belle spent the night at the local hospital. Legend hadn’t asked that of her, but she knew that if any of her friends were in this situation and Belle wasn’t able to be there, she would want someone to stay for them. To be there for them, in case they woke up.
Even though she wasn’t able to see Jess more than ten minutes at a time every hour, that was okay with Belle. She doubted she could handle more than that. She had never visited anyone in a coma before, and it was much worse than seeing bubbly talkative Alex without a voice. Jess was on one of those machines that breathed. She had tubes everywhere, even coming out of her head, which was partly shaved.
She didn’t look asleep, or even alive. She looked like a shell.
By eight o’clock the next morning, Belle was exhausted but restless, thanks to the supply of horrible coffee they kept in the waiting room.
There had been no change with Jess the whole night, except a brief scare when some of her monitors started going off, and the nurses made Belle leave while they checked it out.
She was still in shock that she was allowed to visit Jess at all, but apparently she didn’t have parents to speak of. The nurses called her dad, who hadn’t even come in at all, to see if it was okay with him that his daughter have visitors in ICU. He didn’t even ask who. The nurse on duty at the desk just hung up and gave her permission. But Belle overheard a nurse say to another that when pressed, Jess’s father insisted he didn’t have a daughter.
Late the previous night, between visits to see Jess, Belle called Legend back. On one of her update calls, Belle asked the names of her other friends, so she could check in on them too. Legend sounded grateful Belle had asked, and she came away with a list, and brief reasons for hospitalization.
Belle glanced down at the list in her hand, deciding to start with the farthest room away and work her way back to be near to the Intensive Care for her next ten minutes with Jess.
Coby Walker in for leg surgery was first, followed by Jonathan Mitchell, who got stitches. Last was Morgan Davis, in for shock. Legend wasn’t actually sure about Morgan, but Belle had been told it was a safe guess.
She stopped by Coby’s room first. Belle was glad none of the remaining three were in ICU, and that Legend had confirmed her name for the other families, and security at the hospital so they would know she was okay to visit.
Coby was in a cast that extended all the way up his leg. He looked pale, his dark hair falling limply against his forehead. He had about a day’s growth of beard going, which made sense…and chocolate-colored, absolutely haunted eyes.
“You work here?” Coby asked. His head still felt foggy from anesthesia and his leg was killing him. Without waiting for a response, he continued, “Could you tell them to get me some damn drugs for this leg? It’s killing me.”
Belle nodded, reaching for his call button, which had fallen between the bed and the railing, and dangled somewhere near the floor. She pushed it, and set it next to his hand.
“You’re Coby?” Belle asked, wanting to keep his mind off the pain.
“Yeah. Who’re you?” he asked.
“I’m Belle. I’m here for Legend, who can’t make it right now. She wanted someone to look in on Jess.”
Coby’s stomach dropped. “Is she okay?” He hadn’t managed to think of anything but the leg since being brought in the afternoon before. “I mean, do you know?”
“She seems okay,” Belle allowed, not sure how much she should say to someone in such a drugged state. And she reminded herself, he’d been through a trauma. He’d been in that room with Jess and the rest of them. “I go in there and talk to her for a few minutes every hour.”
“That’s good. Tell her hey for me,” he offered, feeling guilt cloud his mind as he remembered not being close enough to help her. Then, he remembered Morgan. “Hey, are you going to see Morgantown?” he asked drowsily.
Belle looked down at her list, feeling sheepish that she didn’t have all three names committed to memory. “Yeah, I am, and Jonathan,” she confirmed.
“That’s good,” he said again.
“Where are your parents?” she asked, dismayed to see that he was alone, much as Jess had been.
“Out of state. I’m not sure. My brother, Blake, might be driving up. He said he’d be up for Thanksgiving,” Coby rambled, cursing at the pain in his leg that intensified when he moved.
When a nurse came, Belle excused herself to continue her visits, making her way to Jonathan’s room next.
She saw immediately the jagged slash on one cheek - the deep bruises around his neck - and shivered in the doorway, but was happier now, seeing that Jonathan wasn’t alone. Both parents, and an older sister were visiting, and encouraging him to eat breakfast that had just arrived.
Sensing someone there, his mom turned, looking relieved that her son had a visitor. “Hi,” she greeted warmly. “What’s your name?”
“Belle,” she introduced, shaking the woman’s hand firmly.
“Honey, Belle’s here,” she announced to Jonathan, taking her husband’s arm and gesturing for her daughter to follow. “We’ll just let you two visit.”
“I don’t know anybody named Belle,” Jonathan objected weakly.
Shaking her head apologetically, Jonathan’s mom left, explaining they would just be down in the cafeteria and would return shortly.
When they were alone, Belle approached the bed. She was growing more comfortable with this now. “I’m sorry to just come by. Legend asked me to check on Jess, and I thought I might check and see how you’re doing too.”
“You don’t know how Nate is, do you? Is he here?” Jonathan asked, wincing as his face contracted with the question.
The whole thing was a blur for him, except for Nathaniel. He remembered not knowing why he wasn’t coming out, because it was right around the time the asshole cut him.
“I don’t think he is,” Belle said apologetically.
He was aware of how she held eye-contact with him, because so many of the nurses and even his family avoided looking him in the eye. When they visited, his family positioned themselves on his good side. Belle wasn’t, and it didn’t seem to bother her. And that got to him.
Jonathan leaned back. “Okay. Well, I think I’m gonna just hang out and wait for my family. Thanks for coming by.”
Belle got the message. “All right, well it was nice to meet you,” she said, ducking out the door.
--
Just Morgan was left now. Belle had to remember to tell her hey from Coby.
The door to her room was standing open and Belle saw a small, absolutely striking girl occupying the bed. Unlike Coby and Jonathan, she appeared physically healthy. Belle knocked softly, causing her to fumble the pen she was using to journal.
Morgan’s eyes darkened with wariness as she observed the stranger at her door. “What are you doing?” she asked as the girl took the eye-contact as an invitation walked in.
Belle stopped short. It wasn’t a statement Morgan made, so much as a threat. “I’m Belle. I just came to check on you. I’m here for Legend, who asked that I was here for Jess. I thought I’d check on the rest of you, too.”
Morgan’s entire body was tense with expectation. “Legend doesn’t know anyone by that name.”
Belle took a step forward, wanting to calm things down. If this one was in for shock, she didn’t want to escalate it. “We met last night,” Belle tried.
“Back off,” Morgan warned, her eyes darting around for anyone familiar. She felt her heart race. “I’m calling Legend,” she decided, grabbing the receiver.
“Okay,” Belle agreed. She backed up until she stood outside the room, and waited for Morgan’s call to go through.
Biting her lip, Morgan tried to conceal her shaking hands beneath her sheets. “Legend,” she exclaimed softly when she heard her friend pick up.
“Hey, Morgan. Are you out?” Legend greeted happily.
“No, not ‘til noon. Do you know some chick named Belle?” she demanded. “’Cause she’s here, and says she’s visiting me for you. And Jess, too.”
“Yeah, I know her.” Legend confirmed, busily pouring Lucky Charms into Christian‘s cereal bowl. “I asked if she would look in on Jess last night and she did. She also asked if any of my other friends were here and if she should check on them, and I said you were.”
“What does she look like?”
“Huh?”
“What does she look like?” Morgan repeated, feeling her own panic rise.
Legend laughed. “We only spoke on the phone. I don’t know what she looks like!”
“What do you mean you don’t know what she looks like,” Morgan hissed, clamping her teeth shut as pain ripped through her. This damn pill was making her worse than she ever was when she first came in. She doubted her ability to walk straight if she ever got out of bed.
“Morgan, it’s okay,” Legend reassured, finally recognizing the anxiety in her friend’s voice. “She’s just checking in. If you don’t want her there, you can ask her to go.”
Irritably, Morgan hung up. She gestured Belle inside. “So, how’s Jess?” Morgan figured she might as well ask questions while she had the opportunity to possibly have them answered, instead of brushed under the rug, as the staff here always did.
“She seems okay,” Belle answered, giving the same answer she’d given Coby. “Oh, and Coby said to tell you hey.”
“Well, I’ll be free to roam at noon, so I’ll take over for you with Jess then,” Morgan decided. “Thanks.”
--
Before Morgan was released, hours later, she had to be checked again. As her sign-out time drew closer, she grew more irritable and edgy. She wanted to change into street clothes and out of this damn gown. But she wasn’t allowed to until she was seen a final time.
Her head snapped up as she heard the voice of the doctor that had given her STD tests the day before. She grimaced.
He had results of some - negative - but the AIDS test would take longer, and Morgan knew, she would have to be retested twice more before she’d know for sure she was okay.
When she was approached to get looked at a final time, Morgan lashed out, knocking their hands away, and inadvertently ripping the IV out of her hand. She ignored the quiet words that were meant to reassure her. Quiet words made it worse. He talked to her that way, all gentle and sweet, like he cared about her, when he really wanted to ruin her. What Morgan needed was someone to get in her face, to be in control, because she wasn’t and she couldn’t be. When two of them moved to hold her down and the doctor lifted her gown, that was it.
She had endured being kissed and fondled and raped, all while her life was being threatened. She was even compliant through the exam, but after that, when she showered, and Morgan saw her own body, something shifted in her, and it was like she woke up. Now every touch felt like his.
“Don’t touch me! Damn it, don’t touch me!” Her breath was ragged as she screamed and fought, twisting to get away.
The gown was still pulled up too high. Morgan felt her heart gallop like a stampede in her chest. She got one leg loose and landed a hard kick in the shoulder of the one who was so curious.
“Easy there. Almost done,” he soothed.
Morgan screamed and cursed and fought the way she wished she could have when she was taken behind the desk. She saw another face - felt other hands. The smell of pizza grease seemed to stick permanently in her nose. She gagged, and was helped to a sitting position in time to throw up on the gown she hated.
Lowering her head, she wept into her lap, barely noticing they had let her go.
When she was alone, Morgan took off the stupid thing and threw it away, wrapping herself in a robe and walking to the bathroom. Now, she took any excuse to shower. She moved quickly, not looking at herself, and dressed in jeans and layers of shirts. Pulling her hair back, she secured a hat over it, and a belt around her waist.
Then, she walked to the closed door, and slid down it, cradling her stomach and thought of the baby that might have grown there. Tears came and she let them, thinking of all the nurses and doctors who seemed too intent on doing their jobs. On giving pills and doing things that were painful, instead of just being there, and helping her heal.
Morgan shook her head helplessly, as tears soaked the fabric of her jeans.
Didn’t they understand?
But Morgan knew the answer. She knew they didn’t, and they couldn’t. The only other person who knew what happened to her had been the one who did it, and he wasn’t here to blame.
Cradling her middle, Morgan knew that the only one to blame now was herself. Maybe not for the assault but for taking the pill.
She brought her head back hard against the door, praying for forgiveness that she didn’t deserve, but she knew would be given nonetheless.
In spite of this, Morgan knew God was there and alive in her. Even though her body felt dead and used and hurt and ruined and not like hers. And Morgan clung to the faith that no matter what, God loved and accepted her. That she was clean even when she still felt other people’s hands on her body.
And silently, with tears still falling, Morgan raised her hands in praise.
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