Vera
Coraline.
With Ethan, Grant, Autumn, and Dahlia in tow.
They don’t seem like children, Grant and Ethan towering over the girls who used to tower over them, the girls with shoulders
squared and tall, with all the confidence the powerful women in their lives gave them.
Grant and Coraline were babies in my arms. I’ve wiped their eyes and bandaged their knees, held them after nightmares, cheered
them on at the various events of their lives.
Now the kids surround me, Grant undoing my bindings. Coraline walks toward Lisander and the council in ripped jeans and an
oversized hoodie, tattered Converse, hair a wild tangle of pink and black.
She is herself, not of me, but from me. Making her own choices.
“Mom,” says Grant, helping me up. I am embarrassed to say I have to lean against him for support. “Are you okay?”
“I’m okay,” I say. “What are you guys doing here?”
“Coraline called,” he said. “We came to save you.”
“Let my mother go.” Even Coraline’s voice sounds different. Low and easy, but full of confidence.
The person who comes to stand between me and a group of women gathered to judge me is not the little girl whose hand I’ve held. She’s a young woman claiming her own power.
“Coraline,” says Lisander, annoyed. “This is not the place for you.”
Grant tightens his arm around my shoulder. Autumn presses in beside me and I take her hand.
“We got you, Mom,” says Grant.
Coraline glances over at me with a smile, and then puts her eyes back on Lisander.
“You’re wrong,” she says, voice clarion. “This is not the place for you. This is my house. And it belongs to my family.”
Lisander leans back, nostrils flaring with anger.
“So, bitch,” says Coraline, that wicked smile in her voice. “Step down.”
Lisander looks to Camille and Bree, who emerge from the shadows and approach Coraline. Panic sets in and I break away from
Grant and move to defend my daughter.
“You stay away from them,” I yell, my voice sounding shrill and frightened the way it only can when you’re afraid for your
children.
“Camille and Bree will escort the children from the property,” says Lisander. “They won’t be harmed.”
“I really don’t think so.”
Now it’s Ana’s turn to slip from the darkness. And with her is Detective Bandeau. The crowd erupts in surprise and starts
to disperse.
Ana comes to stand with all of us, whispering in my ear.
“This is quite a mess you’ve gotten yourself into, sister dear. Good thing I’m here to clean it up.”
“Took you long enough. They nearly burned me at the stake.” I smile, thinking about how much she must be enjoying coming to
the rescue.
“Lisander, I didn’t kill Paul Hayes,” I say.
“That’s right. She didn’t.”
The voice is very faint as a slim figure moves from the trees to stand in the firelight. She’s weak, unsteady on her feet, helped by her husband.
“I killed Paul Hayes.” It’s Iggy.
“Oh my god,” says Ana, drawing in a sharp breath and grabbing my arm.
“And I killed Paul Hayes.” Another form moves from the darkness. It takes me a second to recognize her. Jessie Parker.
“And I killed Paul Hayes.”
It’s Amanda Alessi.