“He’s fine, don’t worry.” Lucy waved off his concern.
“How would you—” Silas was cut short when Willow ran up and clung to his legs from behind. He caught himself on the counter and pulled her up into a koala bear hug. “I’ve gotta run, kiddette.” He kissed her forehead. “I’ll see you in the morning. But not too early!” He set her down on the peeling linoleum floor.
Lucy’s parents shared a solemn gaze before Silas stepped out into the garage.
“Is Dad gonna be okay?” Willow asked once the door had closed behind him. “Without a job, I mean.”
Lucy scoffed. “He hated that job, especially since Fisher took over. He’ll find a new one, easy. Right, Mom?”
Miranda nodded stiffly. “We’ll be fine, girls. Don’t worry.” She went into the living room and switched on the television, turning the volume up high.
The phone rang. Lucy reached for the cordless receiver on the wall but Willow got to it first.
“H’lo?” she said. “No, you’re a silly goose.”
Lucy could hear the sound of laughter on the other line. “Who are you talking to?”
“It’s for you.” Willow handed her the phone.
“Lucille,” said Tex. “When did you become a comic genius?”
“Since birth,” she replied. “Why?”
“We just read your piece for the paper. We have not laughed so much in ages.”
Lucy heard a female voice giggling in the background. “We?”
“Gertie is here,” said Tex.
What?
“In light of the unanticipated school closure,” he continued, “I have graciously offered Ms Lee the use of my processing power to ensure that the Sentinel is printed on time.”
Has the apocalypse begun?
“Sladan.” Gertie took the phone. “You’re amazing. This piece would go great in the satire section, if we had a satire section, which we don’t. Where’s the real article?”
“The, uh –” Lucy lowered her voice so her mother wouldn’t hear – “real article? That is the article. Every word is true.”
There was silence on the other line. Errol whimpered for more apple. Lucy gave him the rest of her half-eaten piece of fruit. For a moment the phone seemed to have gone dead. Had Gertie put her on mute?
“Right,” Gertie said at last. “Listen, I’m gonna be straight with you. We can’t use any of this. I told you from the start I was interested in the Truth, not some made-up mumbo jumbo. It’s a fun story. A secret underground lair, mad scientists, our English teacher’s wife as the ringleader of an inhuman species of shapeshifters. You should consider submitting it to the annual fiction anthology. I bet Mrs Stricks’d get a kick out of it.”
Lucy’s knees felt weak.
Willow chased Errol across the floor, then stopped to stare at her big sister, who was looking paler by the second. “What’s wrong?” she mouthed.
“But it’s the Truth, Gertie,” said Lucy. “I swear. How else do you think the factory got destroyed?”
“Oh, that mystery’s been solved. Did you know that fracking can cause earthquakes?”
“Fracking? Like, breaking the ground open to get oil?”
“That’s right,” said Gertie. “Word on the mycelium network is there’s a whole mess of it under Sticky Pines. That explains why they’re still tearing down the forest despite not producing any Nucralose. Oil’s what Fisher’s really after.”
“What is this network you keep mentioning?” Lucy asked.
“It was on the news.”
Lucy leaned over the island to see the TV. Her mother was watching tensely as a female news anchor wearing a truckload of make-up interviewed Mr Fisher. The words “Fracking Accident Destroys Nu Co. Plant” scrolled across the bottom of the screen. Lucy’s jaw fell open. No.
“These big-city oil-mongers think they can get away with tearing small towns apart with no consequences,” Gertie proclaimed loudly in Lucy’s ear. “Causing explosions, earthquakes and spill after greasy spill. Well, not on our watch!” Lucy pictured Gertie standing on a chair in Tex’s kitchen. “The climate crisis must be addressed, not in a year, not in a week, but TODAY—” And then, in muffled tones: “That’s good, get that down, Arkhipov. There’s our front-page op-ed.”
Lucy heard Tex typing in the background. “The truth must out!” he shouted.
“Sorry it didn’t work out, Sladan,” said Gertie. “I’ll, uh, see you when I see you.” She hung up.
Lucy stared at the phone. What just happened? This was it. The best chance she’d ever had to get the Truth out to the world, and somehow she’d been foiled again.
“I believe you,” said Willow. She handed Lucy half the clementine she’d just peeled.
“Huh?” said Lucy, slumping on to the stool. She hung up the phone and looked at the small orange in her hand as if unsure what it was. “You didn’t even read the article I wrote.”
“Doesn’t matter.” Willow crossed her arms. “You’re my sister and I believe whatever you believe. Even if it’s dumb.”
Lucy smiled ruefully. “Thanks, Will.” She ruffled Willow’s fringe, then joined her mother in the living room.
“I can’t believe this is happening,” said Miranda, staring at the news broadcast in shock. “I thought that factory would be around forever. Everyone did.” She held her face in her palms. “Just when you think you’ve got a handle on things…”
“Something comes along and pulls the rug out from under you,” said Lucy.
Miranda took her daughter’s hand, not caring that it was sticky with clementine juice. “I don’t want you to worry, okay? This is a very big challenge for us, but everything will feel normal again before you know it.”
“Thanks, Mom.” Lucy spotted something sticking halfway out from under the couch: Willow’s missing puzzle piece. She picked it up and plugged it into the last slot of the jigsaw on the coffee table. “We’ll figure it out.”
The Nu Co. disaster site was cordoned off with police tape and surrounded by fire trucks with red and blue lights flashing. A team of men in yellow hazmat suits combed the area with detectors that clicked and beeped. Wisps of smoke rose from the depths of the open chasm, which was now ringed by heavy cranes dangling long metal winches into its bowels.
“Salvage anything you can,” Murl barked into a
