“How do you know all this?” Rainy was genuinely curious.

  He laughed. “Ain’t got nothing else to do.” He pointed a finger in the air, his head shaking as he spoke. “This place is not even a town proper—a highway rest stop, really.”

  He wasn’t wrong. This was the town she’d known as a kid, and back then, it had seemed a lot larger.

  “So he owns this place, then—that guy you’re talking about?”

  The kid who took her order—she’d already forgotten his name—stuck his head out the door.

  “Food’s up,” he said, not meeting her eyes.

  “Yeah, he owns it,” Marvin said, starting to walk back inside. “And everything else, too.”

  “So how’d he get your restaurant?”

  “That’s a story for another day,” he said, looking at her more carefully. Now that they were back inside and the sun wasn’t shining in his eyes, he was studying her again, a strange look on his face. He’s seeing my mother, she realized, and wondered how often the two of them had crossed paths. Her mother was gone so much on the so-called mission trips, but she supposed they’d stopped in town on their way in and out. Mostly, the people in this place were probably hungry for the gossip that came from the compound, gleaning information like the desert scavengers they were.

  Rainy took her time walking to her seat, taking in the details of the place. Picking up her knife and fork, she cut into her pancakes. Her mother’s death hadn’t been mentioned anywhere: not in the papers or, years later, on crime blogs where ordinary people could pick over cases in detail. According to the world, there had never been a murder. Lorraine had died of an overdose. Another day, another drug addict: the police moved on after they interviewed people at the compound, who all confirmed that Lorraine had been using drugs. Furthermore, they told police that she was a deeply disturbed woman who often disappeared for months at a time, leaving her teenage daughter behind for them to take care of. Taured had backed up these stories, adding that Lorraine had been trying to hide her drug dependency and had come to him for help. In his statement to police, he’d said, “By the time she asked for help it was already too late, and she died the next day.”

  Her grandparents had believed all of it. Given the years-long rift between them and Lorraine, and Rainy’s dad’s own drug problem, it was an easy thing for them to believe. Gilda and Mark hadn’t seen their estranged daughter in years, and they no longer knew anything about her. Rainy had been too traumatized to say more than a few words at a time; though her grandparents were better than Taured—their religious fervor seemed to have mellowed in the years Lorraine was gone, as they had even begun to watch a few TV shows—they were still strangers. And although they’d never said so, she thought they must have regretted how they treated Lorraine, how their behavior drove her from them and into the clutches of someone worse.

  “That boy that served you them pancakes, he’s the big shot’s son.” Rainy’s fork stilled on the way to her mouth.

  The kid was topping off a Coke at the soda fountain, and all she could see was the back of his head. Someone in the kitchen called, “Order up!” and he turned his head to look. She studied his profile, his hair, the pull of his shoulders, searching for Taured. Realizing she was paying too much attention to the kid, she looked down at her soggy pancakes. She could get a knife, wait until after his shift, say she needed help...

  Oh my God, Rainy, oh my God. It might not even be Taured’s kid. She bit her tongue and flinched: she deserved it. What type of person had thoughts like that?

  The sins of the parents will be visited on their children.

  “You know him, don’t you?”

  Rainy stared at Marvin.

  Turning back to his coffee, he said, “You’re not the first who’s come through here looking for a glimpse of him. Must’ve had a dozen kids like you, making the pilgrimage.”

  “His children?”

  He looked at her hard. “Nah, the ones like you who want something else.”

  True that. How many kids had lived at the compound and had been brainwashed into adulthood to do his bidding? When Rainy looked at the pimply kid behind the counter, she realized that some of them could still be there—Sara could still be there. Had she ever considered that? No. She had actively tried not to think about that place. But she was here now, and there was no way around the thoughts.

  “What do they want from him?”

  Marvin turned his mean, old eyes on her, and she could see his rot in the yolky whites. “Same thing you do, I expect.”

  Rainy took a sip of coffee, pressing her lips together as she eyed the bentness of him; he looked like a branch ready to snap.

  “I doubt that, Marvin.” He’d lived so long and her mother had lived so briefly. The injustice of the good dying young was especially potent in that moment. Smacking her lips together, she set down her mug. “What’s he up to nowadays?” She didn’t see any point in lying to Marvin, who’d already made up his mind about who she was.

  “He’s making money. Still lives up at the prison, but it’s just him and his closest now. He runs a couple online gigs, uses the space as a warehouse.” Marvin laughed. “His slave is the internet, not all those folks he had working for him for free.”

  That made sense. He couldn’t continue doing what he was doing once social media happened: underage kids working his orchards for free, underage kids learning to build websites and what else? She thought of the photo, the one she’d taken from the front seat of his car, and she dropped her fork. It clattered to her plate. That’s what else. Reaching back, she pulled her hair across her shoulder and began to unbraid it. Her fingers flicked through the strands, detangling as her brain forced her to remember the photo: Feena wearing only her skin...clearly underage...clearly drugged...

  She swallowed, but her throat was so dry it locked. Draining her water glass, she swung her stool outward so she was facing the parking lot.

  “You think there are any rooms at Charlie’s Inn?” she asked, shaking her hair out. She reached for her bag and hauled it into her lap, making eye contact with the old man. She wanted him to remember her.

  “Heh!” He choked out a laugh. “They ain’t seen a no-vacancy sign since they opened. You planning on stayin’ the night?”

  She studied his graying skin, the liver spots that decorated it. Why would he eat here and give his money to the man who had most likely conned him out of his restaurant? Eat his eggs, and drink his coffee? “Figured it would be easier to get a ride out come morning. You gonna tell him I’m here?”

  Marvin turned away from her, back to his coffee, and picked up his novel.

  “Tell him who was here?”

  She tossed a twenty on the counter. “Coffee’s on me next time, Marv.” She lingered long enough to see him smile before she walked out. Marvin. It was a great cover: harmless old man pretending to be bitter over the loss of his business, waiting to call the compound and warn the gang about who was showing up in Friendship. A spy. In fact, they probably had video of Rainy in the restaurant. Her stomach dropped as she walked through the motel office’s doors and handed her card to the guy behind the desk. If Taured owned the town, of course he would want to see who came through. Marvin had already been under Taured’s control; she knew that from when she’d hidden under the truck and overheard his conversation with Sammy. He’d asked for waitresses, and Taured had told Sammy to send the sisters. God, what was your big plan in coming here, Rainy? she asked herself.

  She looked out the motel’s doors. She looked like her mother; that’s why she’d thought to take her hair down to try to hide the resemblance on the camera—to use it as a curtain—but of course it had been too late. Stupid to put herself on his radar. She didn’t even have a car—she couldn’t get away quickly. She took the room key from the clerk’s hand, smiled, walked back outside into the thick air. The thought of Taured showing up to her room didn’t scare her; it was the thought of not being prepared for him that did. The room was sparse and ugly, but cleaner than she had expected. She took off her shoes and sat on the edge of the bed. She fell back onto the white coverlet and, holding her phone above her face, she texted the group.

  Won’t be at dinner tonight. Got stuck doing some tourist thing. Tell you about it tomorrow.

  She hit Send and dropped her phone. Would they even notice if she didn’t come back to the room later that night? She doubted it. They’d accept her text because she was the strange, independent one, anyway.

  She stripped down to her underwear and crawled under the covers, naked except for her necklace and exhausted from the day—the weekend—the month. No one knows where I am, she thought as she drifted to sleep...an honest lie.

  17

  Then

  They let her pack her mother’s personal things into two plastic milk crates they found in the kitchen. Her clothes and shoes were distributed to the remaining women, which left her with some of her mother’s books, a Bible, two old photo albums and a box of trinkets that had no meaning to Summer. She watched as the women carried off the rest, fighting over her mother’s nicest shoes, which were too big for Summer. All she took for herself was her mother’s necklace, a simple gold chain her dad had given her when they got married.

  “It’s not much but it’s real,” her mother used to say. Now it was the only real, physical thing she had left of Lorraine. When she put it on for the first time, the metal had warmed instantly to her skin, but when she reached up to touch it, the gold had been cool beneath her fingertips.

  “You’re getting a roommate,” Ama told her the morning after she’d seen her mother’s body in the freezer.

  “You mean a cellmate,” she said. These days, Ama seemed to love delivering news she knew wouldn’t be received well. Ama ignored her and prattled on about how it wasn’t good to be alone, that people were created to need each other. Summer barely heard her as she stared at the still-full lunch tray they’d brought to the room. There was a bowl of something that looked like gravy with three biscuits beside it. She picked up the iced tea and drank it slowly so she wouldn’t have to talk.

  “But first, Sara would like to visit with you and express her sorrow at your mother’s passing. She is outside.” Sara’s parents had complete faith in her loyalty to them and Taured. If she was asking to see Summer, it could only mean that their precious daughter wanted to help. But Summer knew what they didn’t: that the girl behind the stoic facade was as angry inside as she herself was. She’d decided to forgive Sara, at least for the moment; she wanted to hear what the girl had to say.

  She sat up straighter, nodded.

  Ama left and a moment later Sara slipped in, closing the door softly behind her. With her came the smell of laundry detergent, underscored by sweat. Her nose was red, like she’d been crying. Summer studied her friend, glad to see her, despite her earlier anger. Sara was tall and ashamed of it—she rounded her shoulders when she walked and ducked her head to make herself look smaller. When she did look you in the face, she was pretty, or at least Summer thought so.

  “I’m sorry.” Sara’s voice broke. She shook her head and tried again. “I’m sorry. I didn’t know.” She stayed where she was, head bowed, her guilt so painful to look at as Summer stood up and went to her. They met in the middle, clinging to each other as they cried.

  Since the day Sara had invited her to eat with her parents, they’d been friends, co-conspirators and sisters. They didn’t give much away publicly about their friendship. Sara called it keeping things professional. In front of everyone in the compound, they barely acknowledged each other, but alone in the bathroom or dorms, they’d laugh and do their best impressions of the adults. Sometimes they snuck to the kitchens after midnight when they knew everyone would be asleep and stole the baked goods set aside for breakfast. They’d end their feast in the walk-in refrigerator, drinking milk that had come from one of the compound’s cows. They’d once gone into the freezer to see how long they could make it before they got too cold. Seven minutes, she remembered.

  “I have to tell you something,” Sara said, pulling away. She wouldn’t look at Summer as she sat on the edge of Lorraine’s bed and traced the roses on the bedspread with her finger, her eyes wide. She looked nervous, scared. It was unlike her.

  “I heard my dad talking to him.”

  Tom, as the doctor and the first to move his family into the compound, was one of the most respected men in the community other than Taured himself. It wasn’t unusual for them to have private talks. Summer had seen them walking the parameter of the compound together many times in deep conversation, the same at dinners.

  Summer frowned. Whatever her friend had to say was going to be awful, she already knew it. She didn’t have words, so she wrapped her arms around her body and sank next to Sara on the bed.

  “They’ve reported your mom’s death to the police and they’re coming to get her body. They had to report it. Taured is paying someone inside the Friendship police to tell him stuff, and your grandparents called the cops after you two never showed up.”

  Summer reached for Sara’s hands, grasping them between her own. “Taured took me to see her body. He showed me...she had these marks between her toes that he said were track marks and that she was on drugs. He’s going to tell the police she was an addict and she overdosed. But I know she’d never do that. Drugs killed my dad and she hated them. Taured did it to her and that’s why she died.”

  Sara squeezed her hands hard so that Summer looked up in surprise. “He plans to keep you here, that’s what I heard him say to my dad.”

  “Taured,” Summer whispered. It wasn’t a question. It wasn’t even a surprise, but somehow, saying it out loud made her feel woozy and light-headed. Taured thought everything belonged to him, including her. Sara said nothing for several seconds, watching Summer’s face.

  “They can’t keep me here. If my mom is...gone, they’ll send me to her parents, right?”

  “They’re going to say you ran away a few weeks ago and that’s what made your mom overdose on drugs. They’re pretending you’re not here, Summer. They’re going to keep you locked up.”

  Her heart was her whole body, thudding until she was shaking so much Sara got up and threw a blanket around her shoulders.

  “Listen, I’ve been thinking about it...”

  Sara’s face, which was naturally serious, looked almost pinched in its earnestness.

  “There’s more. Your mom had a life insurance policy. She got it after your dad died. You’re the beneficiary. Taured wants it.” Sara’s nostrils were flaring as she looked Summer in the eye, her own eyes brimming with tears.

  “What?” Summer hissed. “Just say it.”

  “They talked about him marrying you.” It rushed out of her mouth in a jumble. She hiccuped and covered her mouth with her hand.

  Summer shook her head. “What?”

  Sara bit her lip. “I don’t know. They...my dad...they don’t know if they can pull it off, but they’re going to try.”

  She shook her head. “No.” Her voice broke. That wasn’t right, couldn’t be.

  And why would her mother even have a life insurance policy? She’d never mentioned anything like that to Summer.

  “You’re underage, so you’d normally need your mother’s permission. But with her gone, they can forge her signature.” Sara dipped her chin, looked at her hard, like she really needed Summer to understand.

  “He will do it. He will find a way. Do you understand?”

  She nodded.

  “Sara.” Ama stuck her head in the door, almost making the two of them jump. “Time for Summer to rest. You can see her again for a bit tomorrow.”

  “Just another minute, Mama. I’d like to pray with her, if you don’t mind,” Sara said. They grasped hands, touching foreheads. Ama nodded and closed the door.

  “The police will know something’s up. If I’m apparently missing, the police will ask them why they didn’t report it.”

  “He’s going to say that your mother told him she reported you missing. They’re going to have Frank say he drove her to the police station and waited in the car for her.” Frank, whom her mother hated and who hated her back—of course he was willing to lie for Taured.

  “Frank is just going to play dumb and say he saw her go inside. You have to leave with the police, Summer, it’s the only way.”

  “How? They won’t let me out of their sight now if that’s the case.”

  “They’re going to lock you in my parents’ room while the police are here.”

  Summer was quiet as she thought. Sara was right. Without her mother’s protection, they could do anything they wanted to her, especially if everyone thought she’d run away. Would her grandparents believe she’d run away? Ha! Why wouldn’t they? According to Lorraine, they had always wanted to believe the worst about their own daughter, so why would they question a story about the granddaughter they’d never met? Yet...they were all she had. Duty would make them take care of her; her mama had said something of that nature once. No matter what, she had to get out of here. Taured had killed her mother, and eventually, he would kill her, too. The memory of him standing in the cafeteria, staring at her as they led her away to her mother’s funeral, surfaced in her mind. Chilled, she looked with new resolve at her brave friend, who was risking everything to help her.

  Ama’s parents had the most private room other than Taured himself; it was in the south wing of the compound, near the infirmary and far away from Taured’s office and the chapel.

  “I’ll come let you out when it’s time. I promise,” Sara said.

  Something was brewing now in her belly beside the pain, beside the yearning of grief; it was determination.

  They whispered for a few more minutes, making plans. Summer squeezed her friend’s hand, not knowing what else to say, feeling the dampness of her palms and being comforted by it. Sara was the only person on the planet she cared about anymore. And if everything went right, she’d never see Sara again.