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door just as she was about to go to bed. She had the phone in her hand, as though about to call the police any minute.
After barging in, he whirled around and raised a finger at me. “First of all, the book fair was your idea.”
“I know, but –”
“We spent so much time and effort into it, and in the end, you don’t even show up?”
“Let me just –”
“And then I call. And leave messages. And voice mails. But do you even reply? No. I can’t seem to reach you the whole day, and I was too busy to even step away for a second. Without Caleb, we’re one staff short. And you don’t even –”
“Hyde.”
He shut up.
“Caleb’s been taken in for questioning. Last night. Along with the rest of them.”
The muscles on his arm slackened, and the flush in his face gradually faded. “Oh.”
“I don’t think we should have called the police, Hyde.” Despite the faintness of my voice, I could have yelled it out for how loud it sounded in the living room. “I don’t think it was up to us to make the decision for them.”
Dr Oliveiro said my intentions were normal, that my behaviour was ‘track-able’. Not traceable, no. She had to come up with a word of her own.
“Track-able?”
Like I was a species she was assigned to study.
“I mean,” she said, in her shrill, tight voice, “if we track your behaviour over the past month, it’s not all that unusual for you to out Caleb.”
“I didn’t out Caleb,” I said. “I just thought that it was time he deserved to have a proper father, the one whom he looked up to until recently.”
“And you think by sending him to the police, Caleb will have a proper father again?” Her eyes were bug-like as she stared up at me.
“Well, I…”
She smiled. “Let’s face it, Kristen. You wanted him to stay, and that was the only way you knew how you. I’m not saying it’s wrong, or right – I’m not here to judge – but you have to admit: that was your intention, wasn’t it?”
“Okay.” I glared at her. “It was. Okay?”
She leaned back in her seat, satisfied. “Well, then. What are you going to do about it?”
What could I do? It would be easier if they were at least willing to speak to me. But when they got back, none of them wanted to. Not Jade, not Reilly, not Mrs Burnstead, not even Gabriel. Everyone seemed to have figured out I was somehow behind this. They either kept their distance or waited for me to leave before entering a room.
The only time Jade spoke to me was when she saw me stealing out in the middle of the night. “Why do you even bother, Kristen?”
I stopped at the doorway. “I can’t sleep.”
“He won’t be there.”
“I know.”
“Thanks to you.” Even in the muffled darkness, I could feel the ripple of resentment she sent my way. “He’s being detained. Detained. Until further notice.”
It felt chilly suddenly. “What does that mean?”
“It means they might arrest him for hiding dad, if they ever find him. Or they might just leave him in there until they find dad, and who the hell knows when that might be?” She pulled the sheets back over her and turned away from me. “Thanks a lot, Kristen. I hope you’re happy.”
That was it. She didn’t even ask for an explanation. Maybe there was no need for one. The damage was already done.
But that did not mean there was nothing else I couldn’t do.
Which was why I found myself in the visitor centre of Parrean Detention Centre, where Hyde found out where Caleb was held until further developments in Gareth’s case.
I was sure Caleb wouldn’t want to see me, much less talk to me. But Hyde said he had spoken to him, and said it would be a good time for me to.
“What do you want?”
Clearly, Hyde was wrong.
I had tried hard not to focus on how depressing the place was, but with Caleb walking into the room, the magnitude of what I had done struck me hard in the gut.
“I’m sorry.” It was the first thing that came to mind, but the words sounded empty in the stale, dismal room, as though it had been uttered too many times in here before.
Caleb just stared at me, his eyes unnaturally dark under the dim lighting. His arms were folded and he slouched back in his metal chair, waiting for my bottom-line.
“I told Hyde.” As though that wasn’t obvious enough. “I’m sorry.”
He waited a while more, and when I offered nothing else, he said, getting up, “If that’s all you’re here to say, I think we’re done.”
“Wait.” I seized his hand, and the security officer stepped forward. Letting go, I said, “Please. We were just trying to help.”
He sat back down and folded his arms. “How many times do I have to tell you there’s no-one who’s in need of help here?”
“I can’t believe you’re still denying it.”
“Denying what?”
“Denying the fact that you’re trying to get your family back to the way it used to – and failing.”
He shook his head and laughed. It was an angry bark of laughter I was unfamiliar with. “Still trying to get into my head, are you?”
I said nothing.
“You’re using the strangest methods of handling your unresolved issues, you know that?” Without waiting for an answer, he barrelled on, “What is it that you’re afraid of exactly, Kristen? Having people leave you, is that what it is? Well, you have a pretty messed up way of keeping them.”
“This isn’t about me, Caleb.”
He snorted. “Sure it isn’t. It’s about me, how I’m trying so hard to –”
“Didn’t Hyde come and speak with you?”
“So?”
“Didn’t he tell you why he did it?”
“Oh, you mean because you told him my dad hit me?” He rolled his eyes. “Kristen. It was just a slap. Why do you have to blow everything up like that? Because, really, we all know this is an excuse. Deep down, you’re afraid of being alone again, being left behind with your parents, whom you feel awkward around for some strange reason. It’s not about protecting me, or however Hyde put it. It’s about stopping us from leaving.”
He was, we both knew, right. I did not trust myself to say anything else, so I could only stare at him, my heart pounding as though I had just completed a run. All the while, as I thought myself a master at reading Caleb, he had sussed me out just as well.
After a while, he said again, “You’re not over Blake. You never will be. That’s okay. It’s okay to remember him for as long as you live, Kristen.”
“Don’t.”
“But don’t you see?” He leant forward, and I had to look away. “You have to find some way to move on.”
“I have moved on.”
“One crying session is hardly the solution.”
“What do you know, Caleb? What does this have to do with anything?”
Smirking, he said, “What does this have to do with anything? Well, let’s see. Because of your boyfriend’s death, you’re now struggling to hold on to everyone around you so you won’t have to go through the whole process of losing them again. Isolating yourself didn’t work, so that’s what you’re doing now. And I don’t mean to flatter myself, but because of that irrational fear, you came up with the worst possible way of keeping us here. You knew reporting my dad would hinder all of us from leaving. That’s ultimately why you did it, isn’t it?”
“Just shut the hell up, Caleb.” I could feel the heat in my face, the throbbing beneath my skin.
“I can shut the hell up,” he said, nodding. “But the truth is, well, out there. It’s sitting right between us, but you just don’t want to see it. Keep on pretending, just like you told me to. Only I don’t have anything to pre –”
Despite myself, I snorted.
He threw his arms up and let them dangle back. “Okay, you know what? I screwed up, alright?”
I was not sure I heard him right. “What?”
“Yeah. You’re right. I was trying to get my parents back together, and I did believe that was what my dad wanted as well. But I failed to. Dad never meant for that. And now all I want to do is start over, in a family without my father.” He spread his arms apart. “There. I said it. What about you?”
Part of me was glad he had finally come to realise that, but another part felt he was not supposed to have said all that. Because that would mean I was the one who was still running away from what I was supposed to see. But I wasn’t ready to. Not yet. These things take time. Wasn’t that what everyone said?
Sensing I was not going to come up with an answer today, he stood up. “If you ever decide to face what you left behind head-on, let me know.”


Twenty-nine


“Every great mistake has a halfway moment, a split second when it can be recalled and perhaps remedied.”
~ Pearl S. Buck (American writer, 1892 – 1973)


I would show him head-on.
At least, that was what I thought before I found myself here. Here was the last place I ever wanted to be. It had been so long since I last saw her. Maybe they had moved out, just like we had. Maybe she would not even recognise me; maybe she would stare out at me through those opaque eyes of hers, not seeing anything anymore.
My mother rubbed my arm. “Just go ahead, honey. Since we’re already here, we might as well just do it.”
I was glad she was here with me. It didn’t feel so awkward anymore. She was my mother, after all. And when I could not find the strength to press the doorbell, she did so for me, twice, firmly.
Katherine looked almost the same as when I last saw her, with her face blank and her hair tied up in a messy ponytail. Seeing her felt like time had stopped. I wondered if she would ever wake up again.
“Katherine,” I said, for she didn’t seem to be seeing us. “It’s me, Kristen. This is my mom.”
“What do you want?”
Given the way it was being asked, it sounded almost like a rhetorical question, but I said nonetheless, “I know you miss him. I do too. Everyday –”
“What do you know about missing him? You didn’t lose your son.” She made to shut the door.
I thrust out a hand. “No, please. Wait. All I’m asking is a small favour from you.”
“You have no right to ask favours from me, considering what you did to him.”
Her words were served cold, and the icy shards slowed my heart. I couldn’t find a reply for that.
“I don’t know what Blake ever saw in you. You’re just a selfish girl who thinks the entire world revolves around you. And now you’re here to ask a favour from me. Can’t you just leave me alone? I don’t ever wish to see you again.”
“I know you think I’m responsible for what happened, and I don’t blame you. Sometimes, I do think it’s my f –”
“Wait just a minute,” mom said sharply. “We’re not here to point fingers. Blame-shifting will get us nowhere, and won’t bring him back. But just for the record, I’d like to say I was the factor that precipitated Blake’s …
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