Page 69 of If Anything Happens To Me

She lurched forward, starting toward the window, but I grabbed her arm. “Remember—he’s watching,” I said, nodding toward the stuffed raptors.

“Right,” she said. “So what do we do?”

“Didn’t you say the feed cut out at one point?” I asked.

“Yes,” she said. “When the electricity went out.”

I nodded, scanning the walls around the stuffed birds. Power had to come from somewhere, either a battery pack or a regular old plug in an outlet. Growing up around boats meant that I had stuck by my father’s side when he had to fix the various systems on all the vessels: the diesel engines, the steering cables, the water tanks, and the electrical panels.

I tried not to be too obvious, staring up at the snowy owl and kestrel, but I quickly saw what I’d been searching for. Cords were hidden in the birds’ feathers, and discreetly plugged into outlets in the rustic ceiling, painted the same color as the splintery brown wood.

“Okay. You know where the cameras are, right? Don’t look now. But all we have to do is unplug them,” I said, and of course Hayley looked. Human nature. I almost had to laugh because I was practically giddy with hope and with the knowledge that we had a way out of the attic.

“How do we do it?” Hayley asked.

“That’s what we have to figure out,” I said. I smiled, as if I thought the solution was right there in my grasp.

But the truth was, I had no idea.

I paced around, looking for a way up to the electrical cords. On my third circuit of the attic, I stopped to gaze at Abigail. She hadn’t had an episode since that first one, but it seemed to have taken so much out of her. She looked pale and thin on her canopied bed, in her long white dress. She seemed to be asleep, but she wasn’t.

“Why are you staring at me?” she asked.

“I’m trying to understand you,” I said.

“I’m just like you, but I have this disorder.”

“Not really. We’re nothing alike. I wouldn’t do what you’re doing. You could help us get away from your brother, but you’re not.”

“I want to help you,” she said. “It’s complicated.”

“You told me it was an accident,” I said. “What Fitch did to my sister. But you know what? I don’t believe you.”

“Stop,” Abigail said, shaking her head hard as if she could dispel the horrible thought.

“I loved her,” I said. “As much as you love your brother.”

“I know,” she whispered. “And she loved you.”

“She told you that?”

“Yes,” Abigail said, her voice shaking. “She begged him to let her go, so she could return to you.”

“But he wouldn’t let her,” I said. “Because she stood up to him. He said he doesn’t like girls who defy him.”

“That’s what happened with Iris,” Hayley said.

“Yes,” Abigail said. She glanced at the owl, lowered her voice. “It’s why you have to get away. Because I can’t stand if he does it again—if he sends any of you to the dirt. It can’t happen.” She took a deep breath. “I already know, he’s going to do it to me, too.”

“No, he loves you,” I said.

“He won’t after this,” she said.

“After what?” Hayley asked.

“After I stop being the sweet little sister,” Abigail said, and Hayley chuckled.

“Oh boy, watch out,” Hayley said.

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