Magic Hour
Julia honestly didn’t know how to feel. “Okay.” The word was barely louder than a whisper.
“And no media,” Ellie said.
George looked from one of them to the other, as if trying to gauge their honesty. “Okay. For now.”
The doorbell rang again. There was pounding on the door.
“Hide,” Ellie said sharply to George, who stumbled into the kitchen and crouched behind the cabinets. “Come with me,” she said to Julia.
The two of them walked to the door, opened it.
There were several reporters on the front steps, including Mort from the Gazette. They were already talking when the door opened.
“We’re here to interview George Azelle!”
“We know that’s his car.”
“Can you confirm that the wolf girl is his missing daughter?”
“Doctor Cates—have you cured the wild child? Is she speaking now?”
Julia stared out at the faces in front of her, feeling distant from them, disconnected. Only a few months ago she would have given anything to be asked the last question, to be able to answer it in the affirmative. Then, the reformation of her reputation meant everything to her, but now her world was infinitely different.
She felt Ellie’s gaze on her. No doubt her sister was thinking the same thing.
Julia looked out at the reporters who were staring at her, microphones at the ready, willing—now—to believe her. She could be the one again, the doctor to whom they listened. She knew it was true. Alice could be her living proof, just as she was George’s. All she had to do was use Alice—show the tapes and then present the girl. The progress they’d made was nothing short of miraculous. The journals would be clamoring for articles on her therapy techniques.
In the end, after all the times she’d dreamt of her triumphant return, it was surprisingly easy to smile coolly and say: “No comment.”
ELLIE, CAL, EARL, JULIA, AND ALICE WERE IN THE PARK. THEY NEEDED to set out before dawn. There could be no witnesses to this trek of theirs; a media trail would ruin everything. George stood apart from the rest of them, his arms crossed, talking to his lawyer.
“Can she do it?” Cal asked, voicing everyone’s concern.
Ellie had no answer to that. “I don’t even know what to hope for.” She reached out for Cal, held his hand. The warmth and familiarity of his touch made her breathe easier.
She had been up most of the night, going through procedural manuals and e-mailing law enforcement colleagues around the country. She’d put together an evidence gathering kit and invited Cal along to be their official photographer. Everything had to be done exactly right. If they actually found anything, she needed to preserve the site for county and maybe even federal crime scene investigators.
It was dark and quiet out here. Cold. The icy breath of late January scraped their skin and chapped their lips. They’d been here beneath the maple tree for almost a half hour. In all that time, no one had said a word except Julia, who was kneeling in front of Alice. In the darkness, they all looked like apparitions; Alice most of all, with her black hair and dark coat and red boots.
“Scared.” She gave a halfhearted growl.
“I know, honey. I’m scared, too. So is Aunt Ellie. But we need to see where you were before. R
emember what we talked about? Your place in the woods?”
“Dark,” Alice whispered.
Ellie heard Alice’s whimper, her trembling voice, and she wanted to stop this thing right now. How could they do this?
“No leave Alice?”
“No,” Julia said. “I’ll hold your hand all the time.”
Alice sighed. It was a harrowing, heart-wrenching sound. “’Kay.”
Behind them a car drove up. It was the final member of their party.
Ellie walked over to the sidewalk, where Peanut and Floyd now stood alongside a game farm truck. Beside them, on a leash, was the wolf, muzzled.