Her gaze shifted in my direction. “Please don’t play dumb,” she murmured, her voice laced with hurt. “Don’t do that to me.”
I wished she’d stop pushing. We didn’t have to talk about this. We could leave it in the past, in the dirt where it belonged.
“You know why,” I rasped. My pulse sped up as my body rebelled against the thoughts, the creeping guilt like a hand choking my neck.
She stared at me, narrowing her eyes. I looked away.
“It wasn’t your fault, Deck.”
I shuddered.
The things that happened. I would never forget her terrified face. And at the end, when her face changed. Accusing.
That had been the last time she’d seen me. A dozen years ago, but still a vivid image in my brain.
I’d been terrified too. Out of my mind. Almost naked. And covered in blood.
It didn’t matter if she blamed me or not. I blamed myself.
I turned the radio up.
Chapter four
Cori - Age 14
FIFTEEN YEARS AGO
After sprinting to the Decker house, I paused in their driveway to catch my breath. It was 4:58, and I’d promised to be there by five.
I’d lost track of time unloading a Costco order with Rosa. She’d let me help more at the Center lately, putting things away, cleaning up, and answering the phone. We’d been chatting about the book I’d just read for English,Brave New World, while we stacked cans of diced peaches and boxes of Ritz crackers in the pantry.
The last-minute babysitting request came in late yesterday after one of their older daughters had to back out because her car had broken down. Of the seven siblings, only Deck, Marisol,and their brother Raymond still lived at home. Fernando had graduated from college and moved to California. Justina and her twin sister, Angelina, lived in the dorms at Seattle University, and Emilio had an apartment near the community college where he attended part-time.
Raymond played the violin in the high school orchestra and had even won awards for it. He wanted to attend a prestigious music college. Michael and María needed a sitter so they could watch him at an important audition. Since everyone respected Deck’s refusal to watch Marisol alone, I was the next best option.
As I ventured up the walkway of the Deckers’ mint-colored Craftsman, I saw Bastardo on the front step grooming himself. I leaned down to pet him.
Marisol’s parents had gotten her the kitten last year. She spent so much time in bed, they’d figured he could keep her company. Unfortunately, the only household member the charcoal-colored tabby seemed to tolerate was Deck—and me, when I visited their house. The touchy feline they’d initially named Baxter had gone on to become a staple of the neighborhood, earning the obvious nickname “Bastard” as he roamed around digging up flowers, sleeping on freshly washed car hoods, and hissing at children. “¡Ay, Bastardo!” was a common refrain heard on the Deckers’ street.
I was about to knock on the door when it opened, and Emilio came out.
“Hey Cori, you’re watching Marisol?” he asked with his usual friendliness.
“Yeah. I didn’t know you’d be here. Your mom said you and your sisters couldn’t do it.”
“That’s true. I’m on my way out. Just came by to do laundry.” He held up the black duffel by his side. “I would have stayed with Mari except I have a ride-along scheduled with the EPD tonight for this criminology course I’m taking.”
“That sounds interesting. Maybe you’ll get to be in a high-speed chase or something.”
Emilio let out a small laugh. “That would be fun. But I’m expecting it to bemuy tranquilo.”
“Well, I hope they at least let you switch on the lights and sirens.”
He smiled, lifting his hand to show crossed fingers. “Bye, Cori. Thanks for helping. It means a lot to my parents, to all of us.”
“It’s no trouble,” I assured him as Bastardo scurried into the house between our feet. “Your house is way bigger than mine. Plus, your parents let me watch TV, and there are always good leftovers in the fridge.”
“Seguro. Mamá’scookinges la mejor.”
