Page 84 of Bad Mother

Mirabelle’s head lowered, her shoulders drooping for a moment before she looked back up at Danny. “Of course I wondered. Of course I wept,” she said, a tear tracking down her cheek. “Danny...” He stood and walked from one window opening to the next, where he flicked on a light and put his palms on the sill, leaning forward.His hands are empty. He’s not holding a weapon...for now.Mirabelle stepped farther into the room, her head still raised as she followed him from below. “I can only imagine what you survived and how,” Mirabelle said. “There wasn’t a day that went by when I didn’t think about you and wonder where you were. When I didn’t say good morning to you and then goodnight. You’ve been here”—she tapped her heart—“every moment since that day. Please know. Each time someone asked me how many children I had, I acknowledged you, even if only in my mind. I didn’t forget you, Danny. Never, not for one day.”

He stood there for a moment, looking down at them, and though he was still and silent, he appeared unmoved by Mirabelle’s words. “It doesn’t matter, though, Violet. Because what’s done is done. You caused it, and because of that, I paid, and now they have to too. And you’ll be here to watch it happen.”

“You’re angry at me, Danny. Don’t punish them,” Mirabelle pleaded.

“It’salwaysaboutthem, isn’t it,Violet?” The inflection in his words was strange, as though he was expressing ten emotions all at once, and they blended together, jerky and unclear, all while his expression remained neutral. A shiver crept down Sienna’s spine.

This man had planned this elaborate game, over many, many months. Maybe even years. He’d held on to his anger, his twisted misery. He’d killed in self-defense, and he’d murdered innocent people.Who are you really?

“Let’s walk out of here, you and me,” Mirabelle said, still attempting to appeal to him. “You’re not all bad, baby. You tried; I know you did. I’m your mother. And I see that part of you is still there. I see that.”

Danny just smiled, though. And Sienna realized that, yes, he was still that scared little boy hiding in a cupboard, abandoned and terrified.He’s Danny, the horribly abused and neglected child who cared for the homeless mutt he called Jaxon, and he’s the lonely teenager who raised himself. He’s also Ollie, the reserved janitor who fed the little boy named Trevor he knew had been left alone, because otherwise the child would have starved.But he was alsoMother, wasn’t he? His own version of an unflappable protector. Cool and calm. Ruthless and murderous, yet sweet and loyal. And now he was channeling Father. Cruel and sadistic.He was each identity. The killer. The caretaker. The monster. The victim. A mixture of them all.

He’d become whoever he needed to be.

“Walk out of here?” he asked. “So you can visit me in prison? No, I don’t think so.” He leaned casually against the edge of the window, looking directly at Sienna once more. “I set up all kinds of paths, different clues you might have followed. It was fun to see which ones you discovered first and which ones you did not. I was prepared for every move. But they all led here. This was always the final game.” He scratched his chin. “So many options. So many veering roadways. Do you think life is like that? Do you think God himself sets us up to watch us fall because we’re so stupid and fallible? How much fun he must have. The ultimate game master.Don’t give them an inch,he must think.Not one single inch.” He smiled and clicked his tongue. “There’s little time for philosophy, though. Time is ticking.” And Sienna suddenly knew they were not getting out of here if they played by his rules, because he was trying his best to play his version of God, and he, too, had set them up to watch them fall.

Danny stood straight, then pushed off the ledge and turned away. A few more lights blinked on overhead when he flicked a switch, illuminating the room below, and then he turned and walked out of sight.

“Danny, no. Come back,” Mirabelle sobbed, her agony obvious. “Please, please come back.” But Danny was gone, at least for now, and once again, they only had each other.

CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX

Gavin gave the room a quick once-over before tipping his head back again and walking to the far wall so he could see more of the top floor where Danny had just been. It appeared empty, though. Wherever he’d gone, he was no longer watching them from above. Where was he? Off to set up another room? No. No, this had all been done far in advance.

He walked to the door on the opposite side of the wall and picked up the lock, identical to the one that had been on the previous door. A five-digit code.

Gavin lowered his head, massaging the back of his neck. He’d attempted to swallow down the shock and deep sadness at what his mom had divulged, but it was catching up with him. Danny Boy was hisbrother. He’d been reading his brother’s notes.Jesus.He breathed in and let out a long exhale. He knew he had to hold his emotions at bay for now so he could focus on the predicament Danny had forced them into, but he needed a moment. Just one.

You were always a loud little shit. Loud and happy. You got to stay that way. Good for you, Big Winner.Danny’s words from when he’d first arrived came back to him, along with a ripple of pain. He’d remembered Gavin, while Gavin had no memory of him.

He turned away from the door and met Sienna’s eyes. There was so much understanding in her expression, and it washed over him. A balm. A blast of strength. Just the one he’d needed.

With regained focus, he walked back to the middle of the room and stood looking up for a moment, calculating whether or not they could climb on each other’s shoulders to make it to the window, but he didn’t think so. What were these? Private gambling rooms? Had there been felt-covered tables in here once where high-stakes bets were made? The offices had been situated so that security could view the room from all angles at all times but were far, far removed from the games going on. Even if they stood on each other’s shoulders, the person on top—his mother since she was the lightest—would have to jump for the window and then pull herself up and over the ledge. It wasn’t going to happen. Plus, Danny was up there somewhere, and if he knew they were attempting to climb and jump, he’d only have to reach his hand out and push, and they’d all go toppling over, someone’s back likely breaking.

Gavin walked over to Sienna, who had approached his mom where she was still standing by the wall and taken her in her arms. She let go, and Mirabelle wiped a tear from her eye. She looked shaken and grief stricken. Hollow. He put his hands on the sides of her shoulders. “Mom. Listen to me. We’re going to get out of here, and then we’re going to get help for Danny.”

“He doesn’t want us to get out of here, Gavin. He’s just running down the clock with all of”—she swept her hand around, and Gavin glanced briefly at the graffiti-like scrawls, all in orange paint, on the walls—“this.”

“Maybe,” Gavin said.Probably.“But we have to keep going, because through one of these doors is going to be an opportunity.”

“Gavin’s right, Mirabelle,” Sienna said. “Maybe he assumes we won’t make it through in time, but he’s also giving us an opportunity. If he wanted us to sit and wait for this building to explode, he’d havesimply tied us up and left us. Maybe part of him hopes we’ll make it out. And if that’s true, then Gavin’s right: we can’t give up.”

His mother nodded but looked unconvinced. Gavin tipped his chin to Sienna, who gave him a small smile.

You play fair, and I will too.The line from Danny’s letter came back to him. If he even halfway meant it, he’d set this all up with the possibility—no matter how small—that they’d make it out.Maybe.

Gavin spotted something on the ground. He took the few steps to it before bending and picking up the penny. He held it up to the two women, who both looked at it in confusion. Gavin stuck it in his pocket. For all he knew, Danny had dropped it when he’d been in here creating this orange artwork. But it might be relevant.

“Let’s do a full search of the room first,” he said. “Maybe he hid another container of clues.”

They each went in an opposite direction, feeling over the door ledges, looking in corners and along the baseboards. There was a loose floor tile near the wall, and they spent several minutes pulling at it, but though it was coming up at a corner, it seemed mostly adhered. They’d need a pry bar to remove it completely or feel underneath. “Damn,” he swore as they walked toward the wall with the most graffiti on it. It seemed their clues would be contained to the sloppy drawings.

Sienna stood back so that she could see the entirety of the main wall, and Gavin came to stand next to her. “It sort of looks like a map,” he said, his gaze going from one intersecting line to another.

“That’s what I thought too. And look, there’s anXthere.”

“Xmarks the spot,” he murmured. “But what spot?”

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