But today, her panic had overridden her ability to see, and she’d bear the brunt of believing I was about to abandon her for the second time.
Nothing could be further from the truth.
I just needed time.
Time to get things ready.
And even though it butchered me to press a sobbing Della into a cold wooden chair and leave her with people who didn’t love her, I did.
I glowered at the principal, gave him the location of our farm, and promised that my parents would be there to meet him when he dropped off Della with the government officials.
He promised he’d be there at four p.m. sharp with my sister, and we’d get this nasty business sorted out.
I had forty-five minutes to pack up our life.
Forty-five minutes to figure out a way to steal Della, stop them, and vanish.
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
REN
* * * * * *
2005
IT TOOK ME twenty minutes to sprint home.
Ten minutes to zoom around the house, grabbing toothbrushes, clothes, towels, and food that would travel.
Five minutes to stuff the sleeping bag, tent, and every other belonging I could fit into my khaki and navy backpack, and another two to curse the zipper as it kept getting stuck on a sock shoved down the side.
My breathing was ragged and torn. My stomach knotted and coiled. My body covered in sweat from fear as well as exertion.
In the remaining eight minutes I had, I holstered every knife I owned down my boots, jeans, and back pockets, then jogged to the barn and opened the gate for Snowflake to leave her stall. She normally grazed in the field during the day, but now, I unlocked every fence and removed every obstacle, hoping she’d wander to a new home just like she’d done when she’d wandered into ours.
The chickens would survive without us. The house would still stand. The veggie patch would suffocate beneath weeds. And in a few short months, the farm would look just as abandoned as it had when we’d arrived.
I wished I’d had more time to steal thicker trousers and better jackets for us. I wished I’d thought up better travel arrangements and double checked the waterproofness of the tent.
I should’ve been more prepared for this.
I’d been stupid, and now, we were about to pay the price.
Gravel crunched as a car drove up the driveway for the first time in years. The house seemed to puff up in pride to accept visitors after so long of being cast out of society, hating me as I stood barring entry with my arms crossed on the front porch.
I forced my shallow breathing to become calm inhales. I clamped down on my jittery muscles and embraced ferocity instead of panic.
Panic that Della wouldn’t be with them.
Panic that she’d been taken already, and I’d never see her again.
The headmaster climbed from the vehicle first, followed by the waitress who turned to open the back door and help Della out.
My heart kick-started again, revealing that it hadn’t pumped properly since I’d left her forty-five minutes ago.
Such a short time but it had been a goddamn eternity.
Della wiped her running nose on the back of her hand, then spotted me and exploded into speed. She didn’t get far. The waitress grabbed her gently, whispering something in her ear.
My fists curled.
I held my temper…barely.
Another car rolled up behind the minivan the teacher had driven. This one was black with an official looking logo and tinted windows.
The two front doors opened and out stepped a severe looking woman who resembled a stick insect in a burgundy suit and a man with a beard trimmed so perfectly it looked painted on.
I’d started shaving a year ago and barely managed not to gorge my face apart with cheap stolen razors let alone create facial perfection like he had.
“Mr. Wild?” The two Social Service agents prowled toward me like predators. “Ren Wild?”
I nodded, crossing my arms tighter to prevent throwing my knives at them or doing something equally as stupid. “I want my sister.”
The man with his strange looking beard glanced at the waitress. “You can let her go. Thanks.”
“Okay.” She let Della go, and I held out my hand, begging her to come fast, come now, come quick.
Della saw my urgency, bolting up the steps and slamming against my leg. I wanted to bend down and tell her that she had to do everything exactly as I said, but we had an audience.
Instead, I smiled huge and fake. “Mum made you lemonade. It’s on the counter. Take a glass and go out back to the pond, okay? I’ll come play with you in a bit. The pond. Nowhere else, got it?”
Her face tilted to search mine, her eyes narrowed and uncertain.
Slowly, her confusion switched to enlightenment, and she nodded. “Okay, Ren. Pond. Got it.” She took off, leaping into the house and vanishing into his darkness of living rooms and staircases.