Chapter Thirty-Four

ELLIE DRUMS HER THUMBS AGAINSTthe leather-bound notebook in her lap.

"You finished it?" Dr. Fischer nods to the journal.

"Yes," she says, gazing out the window. The view at the psychiatric hospital is not nearly as nice as the view from Dr. Fischer's office. A parking lot with some maples evenly planted along the sidewalks. Tall lampposts. A fence with barbed wire.

Ellie has been caged again. This time in an inpatient program for three weeks. She'll be out soon. A matter of hours. Doctors say her medications are working now. The prosecution declined to press charges. And Ellie has written her full confession, to be delivered to Detective Calhoun. She scribbled the last line mere hours ago. I squeezed my eyes shut, and I imagined Willa. That the love I had for her would transcend the confines of my body. That one day, she would run wild across a meadow toward a bright future. And I'd be a distant memory. Those days on the compound like a bad dream. This was the only way to set us both free.

Dr. Fischer has come nearly every day. Sometimes for a session. Other times just to visit. Today she is here for a proper session. Ellie can tell. Because her yellow notepad is out.

The first few days, Ellie just sat across from Dr. Fischer. Mute. Dr. Fischer says it's okay. Walking through the door is enough. Everything is her choice now. To speak. To stay silent. To scream. Sometimes she hates Dr. Fischer's positive affirmations—Dr. Fischer says that's okay, too. But finally, Ellie began to tell her story. Writing it down and speaking it aloud to Dr. Fischer. How she disappeared. The friends she had. The friends she lost. The deal she made to save Willa. She'd been so terrified when she was returned. It had been like walking on shards of glass. Michael left the postcards at David's behest. She was never far from his reach, Willa even closer. But when it came down to it, Ellie couldn't kill anyone. She botched the bombing and fled. Because she knew David would be watching, she'd felt her only choice was to go back to the compound and try to rescue Willa herself.

Now, Ellie is inordinately tired and a little pissed off.

She crosses her arms. "It's been weeks. I've done everything they've asked me to. When do I get to see Willa?"

"I don't know," Dr. Fischer answers evenly. "She has her own work to do, just as you have yours."

Ellie's jaw locks. "Yes, but I need to see her."

"You've received updates," Dr. Fischer says. Letters arrived from Willa's mother, along with pictures.

"It's not the same," Ellie gripes. It is not the same as touching her, feeling her. Making sure she is breathing. "Did you remember to tell her mom that she's been learning to tie her shoes? That I taught her that song about bunny ears? Oh, one of her teeth got infected once, and I had to pull it out. She probably needs to see a dentist. Sometimes she has bad dreams, and she likes to be sung back to sleep—"

"Ellie," Dr. Fischer says calmly. "We've spoken about this. You don't have to protect her anymore. She is safe, and it is time for you to think about your own future."

A shake of her head. Ellie throws up her hands. "I can't… I'm not sure how to live with this… missingness." She feels like an ellipsis, trailing off into nothing.

"It is a difficult thing, to find hope again."

Hope. At the word, Ellie crumples. Things she doesn't like to think about jump the barricades of her mind. Eating bitter seeds. Screams in the night. Muffled cries.

"You're thinking of her?"

"It's all I think about." Gabby. Willa. Hannah. "I couldn't save them."

"You were willing to sacrifice yourself for them. You went back to the compound, drew the police there. Now Douglas Abbott is dead, while West Abbott is awaiting trial… that is all very heroic in my book."

Douglas Abbott. Michael. She remembered long after that he'd been the narcotics cop who'd come to the school the day she'd been arrested for pot in her locker. That's how he'd found her. The other girls. Through his job. Social media. Gabby had followed him, liking his stupid videos. Anger rolls again in Ellie's stomach. It's doesn't matter what Dr. Fischer says. What dragon has been slain. The pain remains. Dr. Fischer leans forward. "I was thinking…" She glances down at her pad. "That maybe we could do an exercise."

"What kind?"

"I'd like for us to go back together in your mind and free Gabby and Hannah and Willa. Humor me?"

Ellie laughs, even though she has learned to trust Dr. Fischer. She'll follow Dr. Fischer wherever she leads. Here in this white room, they pass through the borders of Ellie's pain. "Yeah, okay, sure."

"All right, then," Dr. Fischer says, then drops her voice an octave. "Go ahead and close your eyes for me."

Ellie does, feeling a bit silly.

"Good," she croons. "Now, let's go back to the compound. Let's rescue Gabby."

It is not that hard for Ellie to sink into the memory. To feel as if she is there again, among the concrete structures. She inhales, and there it is, the campfire and dogs and the forest after the rain.

"Are you there?" Dr. Fischer asks, and Ellie nods. "Okay, now go to a day when you were all together. You, Hannah, and Gabby. Do you see them?"

It is fall, near winter. The day when the girls whispered their real names to one another. Their cheeks were warm from the fire. Their hands itchy from harvesting the seeds. "I'm there with them."

"Do you see yourself, too?"

A knot forms in Ellie's throat, and she swallows against it. "Yes." She is there, sitting on a log next to Gabby. Knees touching. So warm. So alive. "Okay. Now, include Willa. Can you do that?"

Willa came after Gabby, but it is easy to put her near the fire, too. Because it is what Ellie wants, for them to be together, to be safe, to have each other.

"Take each one of them by the hand. Tell them that they don't have to stay there anymore."

Ellie's eyes water. In her mind, she reaches out and lifts them one by one—Hannah, Gabby, and Willa—from the logs. Come with me.

"Are they with you?"

"Yes."

"What about David? Is he there?"

"No," says Ellie. "He's in his room. He can't hear us."

"Do you want to do anything to him?"

"What do you mean?"

"Kick him. Hurt him. Send him into space. Whatever you want."

Ellie laughs. "No. We just want to go."

Dr. Fischer says okay. She tells Ellie to walk Gabby, Hannah, and Willa from the compound. "No one will stop you."

So, she does. For a long time, they travel through the woods with near-freezing rain soaking their clothes, crossing a burned patch of land where Queen Anne's lace once grew, over the top of a rusted bus. They arrive at a clearing, and it is day now. Summer, too, and they are not desperate for warm clothing. Their teeth are no longer chattering. Their lips are no longer blue.

The fear slowly peels away. They turn to one another and dare to grin. Suddenly, all of their mouths are bursting with laughter. Ellie cups her hands over her mouth and shouts her real name. Then Gabby does, too. Then Hannah. Then Willa. It feels good to be as loud as they want. They are not worried about being quiet. Being called ungrateful or watching for a swinging hand. They unravel themselves against the sun and sky and rolling open fields. Giddy and happy.

"You still with me, Ellie?" Dr. Fischer's voice pierces the bubble.

Ellie nods. She tastes salt on her tongue—her tears have run into her mouth. "I'm not ready to leave yet." She wants to stay in this golden place forever.

"It's time to come home. But you can bring them with you."

"How?"

"Take them to your house. Knock down a wall and make rooms for them."

Throat thick, Ellie builds a room next to her own for her friends. A place with a bed and a window that opens. The air is fresh and does not stink of garbage and animals. This is what she wanted all along. For them to be free. Together. They strip the clothes from their bodies and replace the garments with cashmere. Then they lay down in sheets that smell of lavender. And Ellie whispers promises she knows she can keep. We'll never eat dandelions or huckleberries again. No one will touch you without your permission. There will be no more plants that make you bleed. Hannah and Willa drift off to sleep. And there is no need to think about touching their chests to measure their breaths. Ellie knows they can rest, and when they wake up, all will be well. Gabby turns to Ellie, and they rub noses, stroke each other's hair, bask in it all.

"What would you like to say to Gabby?" Dr. Fischer asks.

"I'm sorry." Ellie is sorry she could not save her. She is sorry that Gabby will never know the joy and agony of tomorrow. The feel of a gentle hand. The touch of her children. The spray of hot water. The first bite of a good meal.

"What does Gabby say?" Dr. Fischer asks.

"I want her to say that I don't have to be sorry."

"It is not your fault, Ellie," Dr. Fischer says. "Do you believe that?"

Ellie opens her eyes. Tears track down her cheeks. She opens her mouth and closes it. "I'm trying to."

"We'll keep working on it. Until tomorrow." Dr. Fischer stands.

They say goodbye. They'll see each other the same time the next day but in Dr. Fischer's office. Because Ellie is going home. Her parents are waiting in the lobby.

"Hey," her dad says, slipping the bag from her shoulder. "You ready?"

Her mom smiles. "Okay?"

Ellie nods and climbs into the car. They set off, the rocking of the vehicle soothing Ellie as she fingers the pages of her journal. Soon enough, they are at the Coldwell precinct and asking for Detective Calhoun.

Chelsey rounds the corner. "My favorite family," she says, shaking Ellie's dad's hand and hugging her mom. "That for me?" She nods at the journal.

"It's all in there." Ellie hands it off.

"Good, this will help with the trial," Chelsey says. "We're going for the maximum sentence, a lifetime in prison."

West Abbott is pleading not guilty and has rejected a plea deal. Ellie wishes he would plead guilty. That he would go away and never come back. But he wants his day in the sun. And Chelsey has assured Ellie it will be his last. Ellie shakes Chelsey's hand again and says goodbye. She loads back up into the truck with her parents.

"I forgot to tell you." Her mom turns from the front seat to speak to Ellie. "Sam and the family are coming over for dinner tonight."

Ellie's lips tip up. "Sounds good," she says. Her mom turns back around, and Ellie looks out the window. She sees her reflection in the glass and touches her profile. Reminds herself that she is here. She is here. She is.

She places her hand back in her lap, touches her wrist with the other. Sometimes she thinks she can still feel it, the friendship bracelet Gabby gave her, and she wonders how she is still hanging on. If she will always be living life as if staring down the barrel of a gun. Her thoughts turn to Dr. Fischer. To their conversation an hour ago. Ellie still has a hard time believing it wasn't her fault. What happened to Gabby. To Hannah. To herself. Often, she thinks of what she might have done differently. Will she ever let go of the blame? She is not sure. But she hopes she will someday. Just as she hopes that someday the smell of campfire will not make her sick. That someday the sound of a dog barking will not take her away. That someday she will not be afraid.

That someday she will unlock the doors. Leave the crawlspace. Sleep in a bed. Cut her hair. Call an old friend. Kiss an old love. Hold her niece. Laugh with her sister. Hug her mother and father. Run headlong into her future, carrying the loss in one hand and hope in the other.

Yes, Ellie thinks. I will live again. I will be a bird and I will sing.