Page 72 of Good Half Gone

“So why do you want to talk to me now?”

Dupont clears his throat like he’s about to say something important. “I’m born again.”

Whoop, there it is. You can’t go anywhere in prison without bumping into Jesus. Too bad they were not born again in time to save my sister. I sigh, picturing my mother’s Jesus, the one who hung on the wall when Piper and I lived in yellow-yellow.

“Okay…”

“Since I’ve been forgiven, and as a result, I feel compelled to ask you for your forgiveness—you know what I mean? I did a lot of shitty things back in the day, got caught up with the wrong crowd and made some bad decisions. I am trying to help now. I realize how important I am to this case.” I hear someone crying in the background, deep guttural sobs that drag through Dupont’s words.

“Hold on…”

I can’t make out what he says to the sobber, but when he comes back on the line, everything is quiet. My heart won’t slow down as I wait for him to talk.

“I guess what I’m trying to say is, I’m not a bad person. I need forgiveness just like everyone else.”

“Forgiveness for what, Chris?” I try to turn down the volume of my thoughts.

There’s a long silence before he says, “For my part in what happened to your sister.”

“What happened to her?”

“People like to talk. I heard things, you know? I should have gone to the police back then with what I knew.”

“What do you know?”

“They took her to the stash house. That’s where they kept the girls. You know what they do at a stash house, don’t you?”

“Book a one-way ticket to hell?”

He laughs. “You were always so weird; I don’t remember you being funny,” he notes.

I wish he would get to the point.

“I never really thought you looked like her…”

“What?”

“Piper. I know you two are twins, but you wore different expressions on your faces. I could always tell who was who.”

“Tell me what happened after they took her to the stash house,” I say.

“They told me that she got away. Ran for it. They went after her, four of them, but I guess she outran them.”

I feel shock followed by a surge of pride. That sounds like Piper. “Where were they taking her?”

He sniffs. “To a different stash house. They move ’em around a lot…”

“What the fuck, Dupont? You let my sister get trafficked?” Now my voice is angry.

“That’s what I heard…” His voice is robotic. I close my eyes and remind myself not to say what I really want to say.

“Did you tell police this?”

“I called to give them my statement, but they never returned my call.”

“So my sister got away from them, and then what? They didn’t keep looking for her?”

“They looked, but she was gone. That’s all I heard, man. She ran.”

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