Finally, Zak gives a sigh. “My turn,” he says, and Nia hands him the spade and flexes her fingers.

He keeps digging long after I’ve realized we’re wrong. There’s nothing here except a stone with Will’s initials on. Jane brought us because it wasn’t a risk. She didn’t take us to the scene of the crime. This is just where she comes to remember.

“I’m sorry,” Nia says, and so am I, a little bit. But I’m also relieved.

I didn’t want to dig up a dead body. I want this to be over without seeing the truth.

I start filling in the hole because, the next time Jane comes, she’ll know what we did. Even with the ground level again and the stone back in place, it looks different.

She will know what we came looking for, and she’ll know that we failed. We just have to hope it rains hard or she doesn’t come here often. Only time and nature will cover our tracks.

“It was always a long shot,” Nia says.

“So that’s it?” Zak asks.

“No,” I say. “We just have to think of something else.”

We don’t leave right away. We sit on the forest floor with our sweat and our fear and our failure and try to figure out another plan.

When we get home, Mum will ask where we’ve been and she’ll know if I lie. She always knows. It just depends how important the truth is to her. Perhaps it will be enough that I’m with Nia. Maybe she’ll think this is our blended family finally slotting into place.

Mum waited years for this life. She told me it would come, but I didn’t believe her. She said it would get better, but I thought “better” was a week without threats or bruises or broken things. I thought it was an undisturbed bath or a laugh my mother could actually finish.

When “better” finally happened, it was a release. It was freedom. And only then did I realize how trapped we’d been.

People like Jane think they’re unbeatable. They think no one is ever going to fight back. This time, we tried, but it wasn’t enough.

Zak jumps, looks behind him and whispers, “What was that?”

“What?” Nia asks.

He tilts his head. “I think I heard something.” We all listen but it’s just the same sounds. “There.” He points toward the hidden path.

There’s a crack, then another, the slow crunch of dried leaves until it’s unmistakable. Someone is coming.

88

“Shit,” Zak whispers, and I freeze because I can’t believe my eyes.

“Amy,” Nia says, and then, her body bristling, “is this some sick game?”