“You need to get off her property,” he said. “You have no right to be here.”
I held the file with the photos in my hand, and I slipped it under my right arm so that I could open my jacket to show him my badge. “Aaron, I’ve been sworn in by the sheriff. I’m now Deputy Clara Jefferies with the Smith County Sheriff’s Office. Please remind Mother that she’s squatting on public property. Mother has no ownership rights to this land, and I have every right to be here. So open the door. I’m coming in.”
“Just a minute.” He started to close the screen door, but I stuck my foot in to stop him.
“We’re going to leave this open,” I said. “You’ve got two minutes.”
I heard murmuring inside. It didn’t take long. The door swung wide, and I entered a room filled with familiar faces—Mother, Sariah and Naomi, my older brothers and sisters, including Karyn, who I’d missed at her home a couple of hours earlier, and younger ones who looked at me, eyes wide. Wondering who I was, I guessed. For a moment, it took my breath away. I’d been on my own for a decade, and the familiarity felt both welcomed and strained.
“Hello,” I said. “I’d like to talk to each one of you individually, but there’s no time. Which one of you is going to tell me what happened to Delilah?”
Alarmed, all three of our mothers stood and rushed about, nudging the youngest children out of the room, pushing them to other parts of the trailer.
“Go play,” Naomi urged an eight- or nine-year-old with her slender nose and light brown hair.
“This isn’t a place for little ones,” Mother said. “Be good, and we’ll call you when dinner is ready.”
Once the evacuation ended, the women reclaimed their places on the couch. Even with the children gone, the room felt claustrophobic. I wondered how so many lived in such tight quarters. But then, they didn’t have a choice. I noticed Lily in the center of a group of teenagers, leaning against the opposite wall. She looked upset, her face flushed and one hand cradling her forehead as if she had a terrible headache.
“I asked a question,” I said. “What happened to Delilah?”
Everyone in the room turned and looked at my mother, who had her head down, staring at her hands on her lap. “Clara, I asked you to leave. What you are doing is not acceptable. You need to go now. Staying here won’t help Delilah. It will hurt her.”
“I’m not going anywhere, Mother.” She can’t even bear to look at me, I thought. “And why would you say that? Why would my staying affect Delilah in any way?”
“There are things I can’t discuss,” she said. “But the situation is being handled. You need to leave.”
“Mother, this is ridiculous. No announcement has been released about Delilah. The police aren’t looking for her. I don’t know who you think is going to save her, but she needs help, and you shutting down like this? Refusing to help me? You will get Delilah killed.”
Beside Mother, Sariah let out a moan, like an animal in pain.
“Clara!” Mother shouted, glancing at Sariah and giving her a stern look. “Stop this. I told you, it’s being taken care of.”
“By who?” I couldn’t accept their unwillingness to hear the truth any longer. I had to lay it out so there could be no misunderstanding. “Did you see that girl’s body today? The one found in the field?”
Mother looked up at me. “I did, but—”
“Is that what you want to happen to Delilah?”
Sariah let out a sob. At that same moment, from her perch against the wall, Lily released a sharp breath that sounded almost like a muffled scream. Aaron went over to Lily and slipped his arm protectively around her shoulders. He whispered in Lily’s ear. She nodded. I thought I heard her mumble, “I’ll try.”
“What is being handled?” I asked not just my mother but the others in the room. “That something needs handling means that Delilah is in trouble. You’re not denying that now, I take it?” None of them answered, their eyes settling on either me or Mother. A few of my sisters appeared to have been crying and I saw a brother I didn’t recognize, perhaps sixteen or seventeen, with his hands up to his head. He turned away, not to face us.
I walked over to him, stepping around those seated on the floor. I put my hand on his shoulder and whispered, “Why don’t you tell me what’s wrong? I bet you know.”
He looked up at me, his eyes red. I dropped my hand, and he ran out of the room, terrified.
“What are you all afraid of?” I shouted. “Mother? She can’t hurt you. And I promise you, someone here is going to answer my questions. I’m not leaving until I know the truth!”
“Ardeth, maybe Clara is right. Maybe she can help,” Sariah whispered. She held a baby’s pacifier in her hand, kneading it. Her hand trembled.
“Sariah, shush,” Mother said. “I make the decisions for the family. I—”
“You know that dead girl we found behind the cornfield today? Maybe her family sat by and did nothing when she disappeared. I saw some of you there. You looked worried. Were you thinking it might be Delilah?”
Murmurs ran through the group as if some of those in the room agreed with me, but mother yelled over them, “No! We don’t have to tell you anything, and we won’t. I am protecting Delilah, whether you know that or not.”
At that, Sariah brought her hands up to her face. She wept, as Naomi turned and held her. “Ardeth, please,” Naomi begged. “Please, let’s tell Clara. Maybe she can help us. Please.”
“No!” Mother shouted. “Don’t you remember what they’ve done to us? Clara is one of them. The ones who came and ruined us. She can’t be trusted.”
At that, Lily’s voice rang through the room, “Tell her!”
Everyone else
