“What does it matter if you hardly know him?”
“Would you want people to know you left your baby in a forest and abandoned your sons?”
She looked about to cry. “Ellis . . .”
“Promise you won’t tell him anything!”
“Okay, I promise.”
“I need to lie down. My fever is going up.”
“Why do you have a fever?”
Ellis saw no reason to mention the knife wound. It would only upset her.
“I don’t know,” she lied. “Maybe something to do with my broken wrist.”
Before Dani could ask more, Ellis opened the door and went to the kitchen. Keith and Brad were talking about Brad’s research on sea turtle conservation.
“Are you a biologist?” Dani asked Keith.
“A park ranger,” he said.
“I guess that explains how you know Ellis. She loves camping.”
“She sure does.”
Dani looked about to ask him more, but she glanced at Ellis and kept silent.
Ellis knew Dani wouldn’t pry into their relationship. And she wouldn’t say anything to Keith about Viola or her sons. Dani was the kind of person who would take a friend’s secrets to her grave. She could be trusted with Keith while Ellis slept. And if Keith revealed the knife wound or what had happened at the motel, so be it. She had to leave the kitchen before she fell over.
“If I’m asleep when you’re ready to go, wake me up,” she said to Keith.
When she closed her eyes, the recurring scene enveloped her. Two monsters. Chasing her and pinning her like a calf to be branded. You should know it’s not safe to be in a place like this all alone. The blade point swirling over the soft skin on her stomach. I know where you can put a knife so it hurts bad but doesn’t kill.
She put the pillow over her face and pressed hard, trying to smother away the memory.
She woke to the sound of a light knock. She was groggy, must have been asleep for hours. “Yes?” she said.
Keith sat on the side of the bed. He had a glass of water and her pills in his hands. “It’s past time for all three,” he said, holding out the antibiotic, ibuprofen, and pain medication. She was reminded of when Jonah had pushed the first sedative into her mouth.
“No more pain pills,” she said.
“Why suffer the pain if it helps?”
“Just get it out of here.”
He studied her eyes. “Are you recovering? From pill addiction?”
She didn’t answer.
“I thought I saw that the night we were together. You looked high on more than the drinks.”
She didn’t deny it.
“Are you doing better with it?”
“I was. Until . . .”
He put down the water and pills and rested his palm on her cheek. “I’m sorry.”
A sob erupted from her. Then another and another. As if her body were trying to eject a poison.
He gathered her in his arms. He’d showered and changed clothes. He smelled like Dani’s Dove soap. “You need to talk about it,” he said. “Stop holding it in or it’ll fester like that knife wound.”
Ellis cried harder.
He tucked her into his chest and rocked. He rocked her like Zane had sometimes.
She understood that he’d come to say goodbye. She shouldn’t keep him when he had a long drive ahead.
She pulled away and wiped her face. “Is Dani going to drive you to the rental agency?”
“Yes. I have a car reserved.”
“I guess you’d better go.”
“Will you do something for me?” he asked.
“What?”
“Let me know how you are. Answer my texts.”
“I don’t like texting.”
“One word. Just send one word. Will you promise to answer me?”
“Okay.” She couldn’t say no after all he’d done for her.
“Good. But can we do three words?”
“You can’t change the conditions.”
“We can’t say enough with one word. If we’re both allowed three, I can say, ‘How are you?’ And you can say, ‘I’m doing great.’ If you’re on the road, I can ask, ‘Where are you?’ And you can say, ‘I’m in Saskatchewan.’”
She laughed through her stuffy nose. “This all sounds very boring.”
“It’s not. I really want to know how you are.”
“My rule is no multiple texts. That would break the three-word limit.”
“Okay. No more than six words exchanged within twenty-four hours.”
“How long will we do this?”
“I don’t know. Let’s see how it goes.”
“And what will your girlfriend do when she sees you texting me?”
“Let me worry about that,” he said.
“If it worries you, we shouldn’t do it.”
“I hope you talk this much when you text.”
“I’ll only have three words.”
He kissed her cheek. “Goodbye, Ellis.” He got up and left the room abruptly, without making her take the medication.
She didn’t even have a chance to say goodbye. Like with Zane. And her mother. Viola.
The odds weren’t in favor of her seeing him again.
4
Dani followed her out to the car. “Please reconsider,” she said. “It’s only been a week. You need more time to recover.”
“I’m recovered,” Ellis said. “I feel fine.”
“Physically, you’re better. But that doesn’t mean you’re recovered. You still can’t even talk about it.”
“Why do you say that?”
“Because you haven’t told me anything! Why did someone beat you up? Who was it? Did the police catch him?”
“Why would you need to know any of that? Why would you even want to?”
“Because I care! I’m your friend. I can help you.”
“I’m okay. I just need to get back to how everything was.”
“What, living in campgrounds by yourself?”
“Yes. I need the mountains. I’m going up to the Appalachians.”
“Ellis . . .”
“What?”
“You have to stop running away from what happened to Viola. You need to go back to your boys.”
“I need to get on the road.” Ellis gave her a hug that Dani didn’t reciprocate. “Thank you for letting me stay.”
“You can keep staying. We need a third roommate.”
“And what would I do here?” Ellis asked.
“Go back to school. If you can’t get into a UF grad program right away, you could get a job first.”
“Why do you assume grad school is what I want?”
“Because you said it was!”
“People change, Dani. I don’t intend this to be mean, but you don’t really know me now. And I
