Total pages in book: 130
Estimated words: 126003 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 630(@200wpm)___ 504(@250wpm)___ 420(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 126003 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 630(@200wpm)___ 504(@250wpm)___ 420(@300wpm)
So I had to keep going too. Because it was them. My ghosts were taking me somewhere. Not the woman in white.
We stopped at a storefront made of glass windows. They were covered, though, in streaked white paint or something. So people outside couldn’t see in.
My heart skipped, thumping inside my chest, as the woman opened the door and the ghosts walked in.
But I followed them.
I had to. It wasn’t even a choice.
And then I just stood there, looking around, trying to make sense of what I was seeing.
Children everywhere. And the place was so silent, it made my skin crawl.
The woman turned to me, touching me on the arm. “Over here. Come on.”
But I didn’t follow her because the ghosts weren’t following her anymore. They were walking around the room, inserting themselves into the groups of silent children.
“We need to fix your foot. It’s bleeding all over the floor.”
I looked down when she said that, and sure enough, I was leaving a little puddle of blood on the old tile floor. So I followed her over to a counter, where she started going through drawers. “Sit up here,” she said, patting the counter, “so I can get a better look at it.”
I slid up onto the counter, drawing up my wounded foot so she could see it. But my attention wasn’t on her or the blood, but the kids and my ghosts.
There were a few adults in the room too, sitting at tables with the kids, or on the floor. Along the perimeter there were shelves filled with books, and table games, and puzzles.
And then my eyes went to the little emaciated boy I choked the life out of all those years ago when I was six. He was looking right at me. He raised his hand and then he pointed—but not at me.
He pointed to a little girl who was sitting on the floor with her thumb in her mouth, separate from everyone else.
She had long black hair and for a moment, all I saw was Ainsey back on the Rock, seven years ago, trying to fit in. Trying to be a four-year-old fighter. It was obvious this girl had been crying, maybe still was crying. But she wasn’t making any noise.
The woman was cleaning my foot and talking to me, but I wasn’t listening. I was looking at that little girl. Trying to figure her out. Trying to figure everything out.
And then the little girl looked at me. This broke the spell. The ghostly boy standing next to her disappeared. And when I checked the room, all the ghosts had disappeared.
I looked back at the little girl and she raised her fingers to me and… signed. Help me.
I jumped off the counter, ignoring the objections of the woman in white, and walked right over to that little girl. I bent down and made my fingers say, What do you need?
The next thing I knew, she had her arms around my neck and she was sobbing.
And then so was I.
CHAPTER 32
The bloody footprints lead us into an alleyway and end at the closed door of a storefront that has had all its windows painted over in white.
“What the fuck?” Maeko says.
We look up and Paulo reads the sign out loud. “‘School for the Deaf.’” He looks at me, confused, but I don’t know what the fuck is going on.
Budi pulls the door open and a wave of AC hits us in the face. We go in and just stand there for a moment, taking it all in.
“Holy shit,” Paulo whispers. “It looks like the fuckin’ game room on the Rock.”
I don’t know what that means, but Budi and Maeko seem to agree.
And then we see her. Irina. Sitting on the floor at the far end of the room, hunched over a table sized for a pre-schooler, pushing puzzle pieces around. She’s got her back to us, but there’s a little girl across from her who is laughing and smiling.
“Do you know her?” The four of us look at a young blonde woman off to our right. “That woman?” She’s pointing to Irina. “She hurt her foot. I brought her here to patch it up and then…” She looks over at the table, bewildered. “Then she… started talking to her.” The woman quickly looks at us, her eyes finding mine. “She wouldn’t talk to us. The little girl. And then this woman shows up and they’re speaking…” She looks over at Irina again. “I don’t know what they’re speaking. It’s not American Sign Language. I mean, there are some similarities, but—”
“No,” Paulo interrupts her. “It’s not ASL because we’re from Brazil.” And then he’s crossing the room, Maeko and Budi following. And when he reaches the table, he bends down and whispers something in Irina’s ear.
Irina turns, surprised. Then smiles. Then cries.