“Melinda.” Odessa laughed. “You know her name.”
“No, no. I want to hear her say it. I want to hear her say her name. What is your name?”
“Amara.” Her voice cracked.
“No. That is not your whole name. Let yourself be whole, child. What is your name?”
“Amara Danville.”
“Do you remember all of your names? The ones given and the ones you gave?”
Amara contemplated all the confused faces in the room, and her throat dried up. All the muscles in her body locked into place, and she didn’t know what to say or do, so she remained still.
“Come on, now. You know.”
“Ms. Danville, I’m sorry. Sometimes Melinda gets carried away and—” Odessa added.
Melinda beamed at Amara and said, “You know. You remember, don’t you?”
“Yes,” Amara finally said. “I do.”
The front door of the center swung open, and Helena and Hallow casually entered. Hallow lifted her head above the large circle of attendees and saw the woman from the Epelbaums’ party. That woman’s eyes riveted her. Hallow shushed Helena, who was in the middle of whispering something to her, and started moving toward the inner circle. Helena pulled her arm to avoid drawing attention to them, but Hallow snatched the arm away. The women parted ways to allow Hallow to get a closer look. There she beheld the drunken apparition, who she could now see was human and as beautiful as everyone else in this room. The woman looked at Hallow, and they were spellbound with each other. Murmurs rippled across the room. Odessa touched her heart in disbelief. Amara slowly removed her wrist from Melinda’s hold and faced Hallow, whose resemblance to her could not be denied. There were too many witnesses for it to be a case of collective delusion.
“What’s going on?” Odessa said.
“So you are real,” Hallow said.
Melinda said, “There you are, baby. There you are.”
“What on earth is going on?” Odessa asked again.
“I delivered this child years ago. She was meant to be here. And this here lady is her mother.”
A “What?” multiplied across the room.
Melinda gently pulled up Hallow’s sleeve and revealed the caul, to which everyone gasped.
“You’re a Melancon?” Odessa yelled. Helena inched farther back toward the door and kept her hand on the knob.
Hallow shut her eyes and nodded. “Yes.” Her voice cracked. The women started to get loud. “I didn’t want to say anything because I knew you wouldn’t accept me.”
“You damn right, we don’t accept you!” someone called out.
“Ladies—” Amara interjected.
“Is that why you asked me about them in the kitchen?” Odessa asked Amara. “Is that why you wanted to come here? Are you doing some kind of investigating? And this is your own daughter?”
“I told you she was a cop! She’s not for us!” another voice called out.
“Ladies, please.” Amara saw the red and blue lights flashing from the adjacent window and started to get more nervous as more of the women began to yell and voice their concerns. “Please calm down, please!”
“Don’t tell us to calm down! You’re a disgrace! You fucking hypocrite!”
The women began to push to the front to get in Amara and Hallow’s faces, and before either of the two women could stick their arms out in front to keep them at a distance, they were engulfed by the crowd until there was a loud boom from the door getting kicked in. A thick cloud of smoke filled the room, and everyone unleashed several rounds of bloodcurdling screams.
26
This was not a part of the plan. It was never a part of the plan. When the NYPD burst through the doors with their tear-gas canisters, Amara was seized with terror. Without thinking, she grabbed Hallow’s hand before the gas blurred everyone’s vision. Before a large hissing sound was released. Before smog covered the entire room. The scene unraveled both quickly and slowly simultaneously—the sounds of bodies trampling over each other, the pleas for the officers to stop, the screams, the cries, glass breaking, feet racing, fabric ripping, and blood drizzling down indiscernible faces. The crowd that had formed outside Blessed Waters hollered and cursed out the cops. Some attempted to break through to help the women who were falling down the steps and out the building because they were desperate for fresh air. But another round of police officers detained them and brandished their guns in case anyone dared to move forward. Ambulance trucks sped down the intersecting streets, and personnel were hurrying to get the visibly pregnant women strapped to gurneys, but they were so overwhelmed with the pain that they clawed at their cheeks or doubled over holding their stomachs.
Eyes red with blood leaking from her widow’s peak, Hallow called out for Amara until the fog’s density began to lighten and she could see her birth mother passed out on the ground beside her. Helena was nowhere to be found, and neither were Melinda and Odessa. The main area of Blessed Waters had been all but ruined, with tables and chairs toppled over, pages torn from magazines, scratch marks all over the walls and furniture, and foam ripped from the sofa cushions. Everyone had cleared out except them, and the people on the streets clamored around the police.
“Amara?” Hallow nudged her mother, but she lay limp. She placed her hand over Amara’s nose and confirmed she was breathing, but barely. With both arms held underneath Amara’s arms, Hallow dragged her to the entrance and heaved to pull Amara up to her feet. The descent down to street level was laborious, and Hallow worried that the sweat from her hands would make her slip, but they made it to the bottom safely. On the four intersecting streets, she could hear police sirens and people yelling and she did
