Page 88 of Rescue

“Why?”

She looks me straight in the eyes and responds with a question of her own. “What do you remember about me leaving?”

We were in the car. She took me back to that place that scared me so much. And when I cried she left me in the car.

I reel back, feeling like she slapped me. “Nothing,” I say, my voice shaking.

The pity in her eyes makes me feel sick. “We should talk about that.”

I’m shaking my head before she’s finished talking. “No. I’m done here.”

“Lennon, wait—”

“No. This was a mistake.” I turn to Haylee. “Let’s go.”

She looks scared as she nods, crossing to my side, but my mother blocks our path to the door. “If you’re not going to talk to me, then you need to talk to Will—you need to talk to your dad.”

“So he can tell me what I already know? That you abandoned your children? Thanks, I think we’ve covered that over the years.”

She doesn’t grimace, merely watches me with those eyes filled with guilt and pity. “You know it’s more than that.” She blinks, the guilt in her eyes overtaking the pity. “I did abandon you. I was no mother to any of you, and you deserved so much more. But I think you need to hear the whole story, Lennon.”

“Why, so I’ll—what? Feel sorry for you?”

She shakes her head. “No. So you can get better.”

“Get better?” I yell so loudly that Haylee jumps. “Getbetter? Do you have any idea what I’ve been through the last few years? Do you have idea what it feels like in my head?”

“Yes,” she whispers. “I think I do.”

I can’t stand to look at her for another second, can’t stand the pity and the sadness. Can’t stand her pretending like she might actually know something about me. She left me. She doesn’t knowanything. I push past her, not waiting for Haylee, not listening to my mother’s calls for me to stop, and cross the lawn in three strides.

Haylee catches up with me two houses down. “Lennon.” Her voice is terrified, and I find I can’t look at her either.

“I want to go back,” I say. “To London. I want to get out of here.”

“Okay. Let’s get the shuttle, and we’ll—”

I don’t know what she says next, I can’t focus on anything. Memories are shooting through my head, confusing me, making me wonder what’s real. I’m pretty sure I’m going to be sick. Or start screaming.

“Come on,” Haylee says, taking my hand. “Just follow me.”

I hold her hand like a lifeline, following her away from the house, away from the town, follow her to the train station and all the way back to London where my family is waiting.

It’s the middle of the night when our cab pulls up to the hotel. It occurs to me that neither of us has eaten since lunch, and a pang of guilt pierces through the cacophony in my head.What a surprise, I think. Giant screwup, like always. Can’t take care of myself, can’t take care of my girlfriend.

You’re failing her too,a voice in my head whispers through the noise as we climb out of the car. And then Haylee is pulling me forward once again. “Let’s get to bed,” she says, sounding tired.

“I think I should be alone.”

She stops on the sidewalk and turns to me, an incredulous look on her face. “Absolutely not.”

“I just think I—”

“There is no way I’m leaving you alone after that. You let me come with you or I’m going to get Levi.” She sighs, running her hands through her hair. She’s exhausted. “Look, we don’t have to talk about any of it tonight, okay? But I’m not leaving you alone.”

I’m too tired to argue, so I nod and follow her upstairs. She helps me pull off my shoes and sweater, and then we collapse into bed. Haylee pulls the covers over us and wraps her arms around me, burying her face in my chest. “Lennon, we’ll figure all of this out, okay?”

I nod even though I know it’s ridiculous. There’s no figuring this out.

“It’s going to be okay, I promise.” I don’t bother to nod this time, and she squeezes me tighter. “I love you.”

Her words barely register. Some part of me is dimly aware of what she’s saying, of the fact that we’ve never said that to each other before. But there’s too much noise in my head to focus on it, to think about what it means.

I only know one thing. I should not have gone to that house. I should not have looked into my mother’s face after all these years. Because now I remember everything.