3. Scarlet
3
SCARLET
I ’m surprised Mom doesn’t break the window so she can get to me quicker once we come to a stop in front of the house. Now that I know I’m safe and there isn’t that whole adrenaline rush, fight-or-flight thing going on, I’m completely wiped out. My limbs are heavy enough that I’m sure I won’t be able to get out of the SUV on my own.
I guess I’m not moving fast enough for her. Once she yanks the door open, she pulls me from the vehicle with Dad helping, nudging me in her direction. “Oh, my god!” she sobs before breaking down into unintelligible babble. Now she’s holding me close, shaking, rocking me back and forth like I’m a baby. “Oh, honey. Oh, I’ve been so worried. We’ve all been so scared for you.”
“I’m sorry for all of that. I didn’t want to scare you.” It’s feeling her physical reaction that makes it real. Her trembling, the way she squeezes me until I’m pretty sure she’s going to crack my ribs. Her short, sharp little breaths that stir my hair and warm my skin.
I’m home. Having my mother’s arms around me means I’m home. I didn’t realize until now that Mom has her own particular smell—it’s her Chanel No. 5, the same perfume she’s worn all my life. It clings to her clothes, her hair, and her skin and smelling it takes me back to so many happy memories.
I open my eyes and notice Aspen standing a few feet away. Her eyes shine with tears as she offers me a faint, shaky little smile. “It’s good to see you.” She’s trying to sound upbeat and positive. That’s how she is. But I can see through her. And I feel terrible when I think of her waiting here for any word from me the way I know Mom must’ve been. It’s not like I didn’t think about her at all while I was gone—I knew there were people at home, probably out of their minds with worry. Funny how it was easier to gloss over that when all that mattered was being with Ren. It wasn’t that I didn’t care. It was just that I told myself it was for the best that we were together, the way we were supposed to be.
I shudder a little when I think back on that. I had no idea what I was dealing with. Not the slightest clue what Ren was really going through.
I can’t think about that right now, since I don’t want to, like, break down in front of anybody. As it is, I know damn well I’ll pretty much be locked away after this. Not as punishment, but out of concern.
When Aspen hugs me, once Mom finally lets me go, the presence of a bump between us almost comes as a surprise. It wasn’t so pronounced the last time I saw her. Another reminder of how much time has passed.
And another reminder of what’s growing inside me.
“How are you feeling?” I ask her as we walk arm in arm up to the house. I’ve never been so glad to see it, and to know I’ll be comfortable tonight.
But Ren won’t. I can’t think about that. I don’t know if I’ll be able to stop crying.
“Me?” She blurts out a little laugh and shakes her head. “I am not the person who matters the most right now.”
“I would argue with that,” Quinton pipes up behind me.
“Of course you would.” She gives him a little grin over her shoulder as we step through the door. It’s warm and familiar, and all of a sudden, I want nothing more than a shower. I need to wash everything away and start fresh. Maybe I’ll be able to think a little clearer once I do.
“I mean it, though. How have you been? How are things with the baby?” I ask her.
“Absolutely fine.” She gives me another little squeeze when we reach the foot of the stairs. “Even better now that you’re back.”
“Why don’t you go up, get yourself some rest once you’ve cleaned up a bit?” My father stands surprisingly close to me, but then everybody does. They cluster around me in a tight little circle like they’re afraid I’ll get away if they don’t cage me in. Even more of a reason to keep things to myself, especially the baby. It’s bad enough I doubt I’ll be allowed outside for a while—after everything I put my parents through, I’d better get used to the sight of my bedroom walls.
Instead of going straight upstairs, I look up at him. “We can’t forget him,” I whisper. “Please.”
Something stormy passes over his face and hardens his features. I recognize this expression, and it makes my heart sink. There’s not much getting through to him when he feels this way. “Scarlet, this isn’t the time.”
“You’re not going to get much sympathy out of any of us right now,” Quinton growls. From the corner of my eye, I watch Aspen put a hand on his shoulder, but I doubt she’ll be able to get through to him. He’s just like Dad. Once he makes up his mind, that’s it.
“He’s sick.” I lift my chin and look around, searching for understanding. An ally. “I know how you feel about it. You already told me in the car. But he needs help. Okay, so maybe there’s part of him that knows he’s doing these things, although, I doubt it,” I add when Q’s flashing eyes meet mine. “I swear. He becomes a different person. The way he made it sound, he really thought River was… I don’t know, a separate entity. I don’t know how to explain it.” Frustrated tears fill my eyes, but I blink them back. This isn’t the time to break down. Not when Ren needs me.
“You’re tired.” Dad glances at Mom, who puts an arm around my waist. “Get some rest. We’ll talk about this once you’ve pulled yourself together a little.”
In other words, run off like a good little girl. There’s not much I hate more than being dismissed that way, and it’s something Dad is an expert in. He knows just how to make a person feel childish and patronized.
“Let’s go,” Mom murmurs. “You need to take care of yourself. If Ren does need you, he’ll need you to be at your best. You won’t do him any good if you’re sick and exhausted.”
She doesn’t get it. None of them do. They would rather treat me like I’m some fragile thing that’s going to break. I don’t have a choice but to let her lead me upstairs. Maybe I’ll be able to get through to them tomorrow. Either way, I have to try.
If it wasn’t for Mom barging into my room, I would probably keep pacing my room while plotting how to help Ren. I feel sick to my stomach, and every move only makes the nausea worse. So this is what I have to look forward to. Worried every minute about the father of my baby while the baby makes me sick every morning. I know I’m not alone, not really, but it feels that way.
“Come on now,” she urges in a bright voice. “We’re going to have visitors.” She moves as she speaks, fluttering around the room like a hummingbird. Opening the blinds, filling the room with blinding sunshine.
“Who?” I even sound sick and miserable. She can’t know. Nobody can know. I clear my throat and try again. “Who’s coming over?”
“Roman and Sophie,” she tells me as she picks up the clothes I left in a pile before getting in the shower yesterday, then collapsing into bed. “And they’re bringing Luna.”
The mention of Luna is a candle flickering to life in my heart. If there’s anybody I can count on to understand, it’s her. She’ll listen. She’ll want to help her brother.
“Also…” Mom perches on the side of the bed, twisting her hands in her lap before she can’t help but reach out to stroke my hair. “I understand your father was busy all night getting to the root of Ren’s situation. He’ll want to see you when you come downstairs. You should do that soon, before the others get here. And you need to eat,” she adds in a firm voice before standing.
The thought of food makes me want to cry. “I feel a little queasy,” I venture. “I don’t know if I want to eat.”
“You have to eat a little something. Maybe some peppermint tea will help settle your stomach. I’ll put on the kettle for you, but you have to come down and get it yourself.”
It isn’t the idea of tea that gets me going. It’s wanting to know what Dad found out. It’s enough to make me go through the motions of getting dressed, brushing my hair; the whole deal before I slowly make my way downstairs.
Where is Ren now? I couldn’t have hit him hard enough to kill him, but who knows? No, he was breathing before I left… wasn’t he? My stomach lurches, but this time it’s not morning sickness that does it. I need to get a hold on myself, or I’m going to unravel. One step at a time.
The first step is taking the tea Mom offers, freshly brewed by the time I reach the kitchen. “Some toast, too,” she insists, placing a plate on the quartz countertop. It’s the last thing I feel like doing, but I pick up a slice and take one small bite, then another. I chew slowly and sip the tea, and after a few slow breaths, it seems like I’ll be able to keep it down.
I have to leave the rest of the toast behind, but I take the tea with me to Dad’s study. The door is open, but I knock anyway when I see him leaning in close to his MacBook screen, like he’s engrossed in whatever he’s reading.
His head snaps up when he hears me, and right away, he closes the machine. “Something I’m not supposed to see?” I ask, and even though I try to make it sound like I’m joking, I’m not. I sort of feel like I have to tiptoe around after scaring everybody for so long, but I’m not going to magically be okay with him treating me like a child who can’t handle facts.
He scowls but nods to one of the chairs in front of him. “Take a seat. We need to talk.” Once I do as he says, he sighs. “I spent hours digging into information on Safe Haven, from before we took them down. I thought I knew everything about it, really. Of course, there’s never knowing everything about a place like that. So many secrets were buried.” His voice cracks a little, and it’s like somebody took a scalpel to my heart and sliced it open.
“Tell me,” I urge, setting the mug on his desk when my hands begin to shake.
“It was your uncle Luke who gave me the answers I needed.” A look of pain and disgust sweeps over his face before he pulls himself together. “As it turns out, there was a River. He did exist.”
I sit up a little straighter and would swear every nerve in my body is humming. I can almost hear it in my head. River was real. Past tense. “And? Who was he? What happened to him?”
It’s obvious he doesn’t want to say it in the way he grinds his teeth, the way his jaw ticks. “River was Ren’s biological brother.”
“Was?” I whisper. “Is he… dead now?”
“I’m afraid so. Apparently, according to Luke, River died there. He couldn’t remember the exact details, but it’s no secret to us that children were abused, sometimes severely. Whatever was done to River was too much, and he died… while Ren was present. Luke thought Ren was too young to remember.” If he knows anything else, he keeps it to himself. Maybe he wants to protect me from it.
Somehow, I knew. At least I had a good feeling it was something like this. Something that broke Ren, something so horrible his brain couldn’t handle it. “That’s what did it,” I conclude. “That’s what started it.”
“We don’t know that for sure,” Dad tells me. “We can’t pretend to be psychiatrists. But it does seem if anything could split a person’s personality the way you’ve described Ren, that would be it. He simply couldn’t handle the trauma, and his mind had to protect itself somehow.”
I can’t process it. My poor Ren. Imagine witnessing something like that at such a young age. “Thank you for at least humoring me enough to look into it,” I tell him once my brain starts moving again, once I’ve shaken off the shock.
He tips his head to the side. “If anything, I wanted to know for myself why he betrayed us. Not for his sake, but for my own. Now…” He sinks back into his chair and shrugs. “I don’t know what there is to be done for him, or if there’s anything we can do at all. There might be no getting through to him. It could be he’s completely lost touch with reality.”
I can’t believe that, and I won’t. I am not giving up on him, though I know better than to say those words out loud. Something tells me he knows anyway when he sighs before his shoulders sag.
All of that is lost when voices echo down the hall. I’m barely out of the study before Luna throws her arms around me, followed by her parents. I can barely make out their questions since they all overlap until it’s nothing but noise in my ears.
“I’m okay.” That’s all I can say over and over. It isn’t easy to look Ren’s parents in the eye after everything that happened, though when I do, there’s nothing but concern reflected at me. “I’m fine. I’m not hurt or anything like that. I’m really okay.” I wish I could say the same for Ren.
Dad clears his throat behind us. “Roman, Sophie. Come, have a seat. We need to talk.” The two of them exchange what seems like a nervous glance before joining my father, the three of them murmuring as they enter the study.
I wait until they’re inside with the door closed before pulling Luna in by her shoulders. “I need your help,” I whisper, leaning in close to her ear. “We need to find Ren. He’s sick, and he needs help, and right now I’m the only one who cares.”
“That’s not true,” she whispers back, shaking her head. “I want to help him. We all do.”
“What have you heard?”
She bites her lip. “Mom and Dad were talking. Something about him having something wrong in his head. That’s it. No specifics. Is it really that bad?”
All I can do is nod. “I have to get to him, and I have to tell him he needs help. Otherwise, he could get himself killed. None of this is his fault. You have to believe me.”
“I do.” Her eyes shine when she takes my hand and squeezes tight. “I know he wouldn’t do this unless there was something really wrong.”
“You’ll help me?”
“I’ll do everything I can.”
“Girls?” Mom finds us and begins walking our way. “Are you hungry? Scarlet, you didn’t finish your toast.”
“We’ll talk about it later,” I whisper before we follow Mom toward the kitchen. I still feel like shit, which is putting it mildly, and every second that passes has me a little more worried about Ren and what he’s going through.
But somebody is on my side. I have to cling to that tiny scrap of hope. Right now, it’s all I have.