Page 60 of If Anything Happens To Me

“Then let’s break the glass!” I said, glancing around for something to use. I grabbed a heavy book from the top of a chest.

“Go ahead and try,” Abigail said. “It’s hurricane glass.”

I lowered the book. I knew what she was talking about. We live close to Long Island Sound, and when hurricanes come roaring north during the summer and fall, they can bring massive destruction that wrecks property. A category 5 hurricane can tear hundred-year-old trees up by the roots, lift outdoor furniture and fling it into the air, send massive waves and acres of beach sand across roads and into houses, rip shutters off walls and break windows, and splinter seemingly solid wooden structures as if they were made of matchsticks.

So it didn’t really surprise me that there would be hurricane windows in the Miramar.

But for Fitch, the benefit of having such thick, strong, impenetrable windows was not only to keep storms out, but to keep girls in.

“Oli, I’m sorry he brought you here,” Abigail said, sitting up in bed.

“So am I.” I stood next to her, feeling churned up inside. “Abigail, you came to Eloise’s memorial at school. You looked straight at me and said how sorry you were that she died.”

“I meant it,” Abigail said quietly. “I was sorry. Iamsorry.”

“When we couldn’t find her,” I continued, “when we didn’t know what had happened to her, your brother was in the search party. So was Matt. They helped put up flyers. Passed them out at school. And the whole time you knew. You knew she was never coming home. You knew she was already dead.”

“I didn’t want my brother to get caught,” Abigail said. “As much as you love Eloise, that’s how I feel about Fitch.”

“There’s no comparison,” I said. “My sister was wonderful, loving, innocent. Your brother is a murderer.”

“No,” she said vehemently. “He was telling the truth. What happened to Eloise was an accident. He never would have hurt her on purpose. He didn’t mean for her to die. He panicked, that’s why he buried her, so no would connect it to us, to what he’s trying to do for me . . .”

“What about Iris?” I asked.

Confusion crossed Abigail’s face. “He let her go,” she said. “That’s why she wasn’t here anymore. We woke up and she was gone. Right, Hayley?”

“That’s what he told you,” Hayley said. “But, Abigail, did you seriously believe him? He thought she died—and so did I.”

“Abigail, he was sure he’d killed Iris,” I said. “He took her into the Braided Woods, and he buried her there.”

“No!” Abigail said. “I don’t believe you!”

“In the exact same grave where he put Eloise,” I said.

Abigail shook her head, covered her eyes with the heels of her hands. “He didn’t,” she whispered. “He promised he wouldn’t do anything bad to her. Toanyof you. Not on purpose.”

I stared at Abigail. In what warped world could she imagine that kidnapping girls and keeping them locked up here wasn’t doing anything bad?

“Tell me how Eloise’s ‘accident’ happened,” I said, not believing that it was anything but on purpose.

“Too much electricity, too much medication,” she said.

That sounded terrible, and I found myself looking at the wires leading to her bed, the ones attached to an alarm. Had he done that to Eloise?

“Did you see it happen?” I asked.

She bowed her head.

“You did, didn’t you?” I asked. And the next words tore out with a part of my heart. “Was Matt part of it?”

“Matt Grinnell,” Abigail said. “I know you like him. Eloise told me.”

“Did Matt hurt my sister?” I asked.

When she raised her eyes, I saw fire in them. She spoke as if I hadn’t just asked the hardest question in the world.

“You’re not going to make me say bad things about Fitch,” she said. “I know he’s not perfect. He’s making mistakes. But he’s doing this for a good reason. To save me and people like me. You could have the gene, too. All of you could. Your blood type is AB negative, too, right?”

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