Magic Hour

“Of course.” Ellie didn’t know how she felt about the idea of her sister living here all through the winter. It was something she’d have to worry over later, in the dark, while she tried to fall asleep. But she knew she appreciated someone else shouldering the burden of little Alice’s damaged soul. “What about . . . all that weirdness? The birds?”

Julia stared over the rim of her teacup at the moonlit river beyond. “I don’t know. She’s lived in a world that’s different than ours, with different fundamental rules. When I was doing research on the documented cases of wild children, it was clear that in most previous centuries, these children were romanticized, seen as examples of true nature. Uncorrupted and uncivilized, they came to represent a purity of man that couldn’t exist in a society that set down rules of behavior.”

“And all that means what?”

“Maybe she’s more a part of nature than of man, more connected to the natural world—sights, smells, plants, animals—than to us.”

Ellie didn’t even know what to make of that. “It looked more like magic than science to me.”

“That’s another explanation.”

“So what now? How do we get her to start talking?”

Julia looked at her. “She needs to learn that she’s safe here. I think we need to show her what a family is. Maybe it’ll ring some bells with her, make her remember. And we teach her the way you’d teach any two-year-old: one word at a time.”

LATER THAT NIGHT, AFTER ELLIE WENT TO BED, JULIA LAY IN HER BED, staring at the ceiling. She was too wound up to sleep. Her blood seemed to be tingling just beneath her skin.

Stay.

That moment kept repeating itself, over and over. Each time she remembered it, she felt a shiver of awe at what it meant.

Until tonight, that very moment when Alice had spoken her first word, Julia hadn’t even realized how lost she’d become, how far she’d fallen. Her grasp on confidence had been fragile and slippery. But now she was back. She was her old self.

And she’d never give up again. First thing tomorrow morning she would call the team of doctors and scientists who wanted to study Alice and tell them to back off. Then she’d convince DSHS that they had nothing to worry about with the girl’s current placement.

Maybe that was the lesson she’d needed to learn from the tragedy with Amber, the missing sign she’d been so desperate to find.

In her business, there would be failures. Heartbreaking losses. But to be the best, she had to stay strong in her belief that she made a difference.

She was strong again. No phone calls from scientists or so-called colleagues or questions from the media would ruin her again. No one would take Alice from her.

She needed to talk to someone tonight; to share her triumph, and there was only one person who would understand.

You’re crazy, Julia.

She threw the covers back and got out of bed. Dressing in a pair of well-worn black sweats and a blue tee shirt, she kissed Alice’s soft cheek and then left the room.

Outside Ellie’s bedroom, Julia paused. There was no light from beneath the door, no sounds from within.

She didn’t want to wake her sister. Besides, Ellie didn’t truly appreciate the importance of tonight’s events.

Without letting herself think, she moved. She went out to the car and drove toward the old highway. There were no other cars on the road this time of night; the world was dark and still. Stars splattered the sky like a Jackson Pollock painting.

Just before the entrance to the national park, she turned onto a rutted gravel road. At the final bend, she flicked off her headlights. Under cover of darkness, she pulled into his yard.

In truth, she didn’t know why she was here, parked in front of his house like a teenage girl on a lonely Saturday night.

That wasn’t true. She didn’t want to admit why she was here, perhaps, but she knew.

No matter how often she’d told herself she was being stupid—the fly going straight into the web—she couldn’t seem to stop herself.

She got out of the Suburban and walked across the dark yard, hearing the gentle lapping of the lake along the shore.

MAX HEARD THE CAR DRIVE UP AND HOPED LIKE HELL IT WASN’T A medical emergency. This was his only night off call this week and he had already finished his second scotch.

He heard footsteps on the porch. Then a knock on his front door.

“I’m out here,” he called out. “On the deck.”