Page 28 of Falling for the Enemy

“How many sisters do you have?” Milo asked.

“Four. We’re the fabulous five, as my grandmother liked to call us.” That made Ava smile for a second, then a much more serious expression washed over her face. She was breathtaking in firelight, even with a somber expression. “My mom had been sick with a fever. As little girls, we didn’t understand much about what was happening, but we all knew it was bad because the worry was palpable from our dad and grandmother.”

The only sound was the crackling of the fire and the occasional cricket as everyone listened to her story.

Ava stared into the fire, and you got the sense she was back there, back in time, in that classroom. “It was one of those days where you remember every detail. I was working on an addition problem, a big one with four-digit numbers, and then it hit me. This profound sense of loss as if the world around me had just disappeared, and I was alone. I fought back tears as I went up to my teacher and asked if I could use the restroom. She asked if everything was all right, and I stoically nodded, even though I wanted to fall apart right there in the classroom. I remember walking out, and Jimmy Griffiths was smirking at me. He was always the meanest kid in school. My grandmother told us it was because his father was horrid. So, I walked past Jimmy’s smirk. It felt like I was walking through a dream, like nothing was real, like I was no longer connected to anything, floating like a balloon. I made my way to the restroom, and my sister, Ella, stepped around the corner. She stared at me wide-eyed for a second and then we fell into each other’s arms crying. We stood there like that for a long time until we heard our names over the loudspeaker. We were to report to the office. We held each other’s hands as we walked to the office. The first-grade aide was walking our little sister, Layla, up to the office. She was crying so hard her face was red. For a second, I was relieved. I was sure the terrible feeling that came over me had to do with Layla being upset about something. I even told myself it was probablysomething as silly as her crayons spilling on the floor. The aide looked at us, unsure what to do. ‘She just started crying, so the teacher asked me to take her up to the office.’ She handed her off to Ella and me. The three of us stood outside the office door until Ella finally got the courage to open it. We stepped inside and my dad was standing there. Principal Jensen had his arm around dad’s shoulder.” Ava stopped and took a breath. I was thankful because I needed to take my own breath. “My mom was gone.”

“Oh, wow,” Ian said. “That is some crazy sixth sense stuff between you and your sisters.”

Ava nodded and looked pointedly my direction. “Still get those inklings every once in a while, and they are always right.”

I dropped my gaze, descending even farther into shame.

It took a few minutes, and mostly by Ava’s lead, but the tone lightened again. Her heart-wrenching story was strictly for me. Once the yawns started making their way around the circle and the flames had petered out to mere embers, everyone got up and said their “goodnights.”

I picked up the bucket of water to douse the embers and noticed that Ava had stayed behind to gaze up at the night sky. I finished my task and walked over to join her.

I looked up at the sky as well. With no artificial light to dull them, the stars looked close enough to touch. “That was brutal.”

“Guess I was still on defense.”

“I apologize for my sarcasm. Unfortunately, it comes out before I can stop it.”

“Not the best excuse I’ve ever heard, but apology accepted.”

“So, it seems you really do have, as Ian so aptly put it, a sixth sense.”

Ava pulled her gaze from the stars and looked at me. We were so close that even in the dim light coming from the solar lights in the huts I could see the spray of freckles on her nose. She was an Irish beauty in every sense of the word. “That was only one ofmany episodes, and the connection only got stronger as we grew older and learned to look after each other.” She paused. “Our grandmother, Nonna, died when we were young adults, and once again, we were devastated, only then we had no one to rely on but each other. There was no motherly, magical grandmother waiting with open arms and round apple cheeks to take us in.”

“Your relationship with your sisters is enviable.” I glanced down at her necklace. She’d been rubbing it absently as we sat around the fire. “Your intuition is telling you that we might be in trouble, that the approaching storm might cause problems.”

Ava smiled and shrugged. “It’s probably nothing. Those inklings always work best when it has to do with my sisters. Harold seemed a little concerned, and when he blurted out his evacuation plans it worried me.”

“Yes, about that. Exactly how does he plan to evacuate us? I can’t see any reasonable place for air assistance.”

“Nope, that’s where my mind went, too. Apparently, Harold and Mia have dirt bikes, so they’d have to make a few trips back and forth to get us all back to the station.”

“Sounds slow. Let’s hope the storm fizzles like he suggested.” I covered a yawn. “I suppose it’s time to climb onto that miserable cot and try to get some shut-eye.”

Ava laughed. “Sweet dreams and don’t let the bedbugs bite.”

“Bedbugs? If only that was all I had to worry about biting me. Night, Lo.”

“Goodnight, Sinclair.”

Chapter Nineteen

AVA

Ashriek woke me from a dream where I was surrounded by tables of Isla’s baked goods. Apparently, reconstituted eggs and canned beans were not holding me. Normally, I didn’t mind the food at camp. It was never delicious, but as long as it satisfied my hunger and gave me energy, I never minded how flavorless it was, but knowing that Isla’s bakery was up and running made the powdered breakfast eggs far less appetizing.

The shriek repeated, so it wasn’t just part of a dream. I pulled on my shorts and boots. Jack and Evan stumbled out of their hut at the same time. We all headed in the direction of the third shriek. Pam was standing on the picnic table inside the mess tent, staring down at something beneath the canned food shelf. The neon green skin made the parrot snake easy to spot as it lay perfectly still beneath the cans. There was a lump in the middle of its belly indicating it had probably just done us a favor by taking care of a rodent in the pantry area.

“It’s one thing for them to be out there in nature, but when they come inside—” Pam’s voice was shaky. “I can’t do this for two weeks.” Tears started to fall. “I thought I could, but nope. The bugs, the spiders, the snakes, the heat, the horrid food—I can’t do it.”

I looked at Jack. “You want to take this, or shall I?”

“If I get rid of the snake, will you take it and then not give me too much grief about chickening out?” Jack asked.

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