An Honest Lie(16)

And if she went on the trip to Vegas, would it satisfy his version of who she was supposed to be? She could tell him why she didn’t want to go to Vegas particularly, or she could just go to Vegas.

“I’ll go,” Rainy said.

Grant blinked at her like he hadn’t heard right. That made Rainy smile.

“Am I allowed to be excited?” he asked seriously. Rainy rolled her eyes, then nodded.

On the day of their flight, Rainy accidentally slept in. At ten past twelve, she tossed her carry-on into the truck’s passenger seat and raced to drop Shep off at Mr. Bean’s before setting off for the airport. They’d tried to get her to drive with them—the Tiger Mountain carpool—but she’d insisted that there wasn’t enough room for them all to sit comfortably in Ursa’s Jeep and that she’d meet them at the gate.

When she finally did make it to their gate, the plane was already boarding. The women were lingering around the gate, talking to the flight attendant, when she arrived, flustered and rosy-cheeked from her brisk walk over. Braithe embraced her in relief, while Ursa and Mac fussed over her. Tara, she noticed, glanced at her watch before reminding the girls they needed to board. High on the near-miss, they clambered down the walkway to the plane, recounting their morning to Rainy in code words and raised eyebrows. Mackenzie had had a pregnancy scare, but she’d taken a test in the airport bathroom, and no, she wasn’t, but what a morning. Their seats were all separate, and Rainy had to check her carry-on at the last minute due to lack of overhead space. But when they finally did take off, she felt oddly relaxed and ready.

For what? she asked herself as she closed her eyes and settled back into her seat. She slid a Xanax between her lips for good measure and tucked her AirPods into her ears. Before she knew it, they were landing, their plane bouncing happily along the runway like a puppy. They hauled their carry-ons to baggage claim, where the rest of them grabbed their oversize suitcases off the rack. Rainy looked down at her own tiny bag and temporarily panicked that she hadn’t brought enough, then consoled herself with the fact that the shopping in Vegas came as easily as the slots. A memory edged its way into her mind: she’d been a kid at the time, barely a teenager, and her mother had pulled her through this very airport, jogging, she was in such a hurry. And then she’d heard her mama ask for two tickets to Albuquerque, New Mexico, and her panic had gone into overdrive. Her grandparents? That was her mother’s big plan? But then her mother had vanished, leaving her alone in the airport.

Braithe snapped her fingers near Rainy’s face. “Hey! You okay? What are you doing?” She’d rolled her two bags, one big and one small, over to where Rainy was waiting, and her eyes were wide. “You, like, had this look on your face. I thought you were going to scream or cry.”

Rainy smiled at her weakly.

Braithe was wearing a white silk top and white pants, and somehow, even after the flight, she managed to look fresh.

“Yeah. I’m fine. I was just—it was nothing. Are they ready to go?” She spotted Ursa, motioning for them near the doors that led outside.

“Looks like there’s a cab ready,” Braithe said. They ran for it, and then they were outside, Nevada’s warm breath reacquainting itself with Rainy’s skin. She brushed off the familiarity, allowing their excited voices to fill her head instead. Mac was telling them where she had made reservations for dinner. How many outfit changes would they need? Mac was asking. She’d had two cocktails on the plane and was slurring her words.

“Hey, guys.” They all stopped talking and turned to look at her at the same time. Rainy pointed to the sky, her nose scrunched up.

“Oh, no, no, no!” Tara had her nose pressed to the window behind Rainy. “Did anyone check the weather? Was this supposed to happen?”

A flash of lightning punctuated Tara’s words, and everyone made their own sound of distress.

“Sudden storm, turned this way,” the driver said. Jersey, Rainy thought. He’s from Jersey. “Hope it don’t ruin your plans.”

Ruin their plans. Taured had ruined her mother’s plans that day at the airport. She reached up to touch her forehead, where an ache had already rooted itself behind her eyes. Her head hadn’t felt right since...

When?

And why in God’s name was she having these memories now?

The memory felt so real, with the confusion and fear. And then there was what had happened after. There was one thing that scared her right down to the center of her gut and it was a man who was governed only by his own sense of right and wrong.



7


Then


“What is Kids’ Camp? Why can’t I go to it and still sleep here with you?”

“That’s just not the way they do things.” They, meaning Tauredians, as Summer had dubbed them after the first week. If Taured wasn’t going to name them, Summer felt entitled to. Her mother had scolded her for using the name, so now Summer used it solely in her head.

“But it’s the way we do things,” Summer argued. “You said I would never have to sleep away from you—you promised me after Dad died.” The Kids’ Camp argument had been gaining speed for a week, becoming a bristling point between them. At the last group meeting, held in what had been the old prison chapel, Taured had informed everyone that the children would no longer live in the main building with their parents during the week, but would be assigned to sleep and be educated in the children’s building. Before anyone could ask, he cited the reasons: “Your children are too dependent on you, and they need to be taught to be dependent on God. They can’t hear His voice if they’re hearing yours.”