Page 70 of I Will Mend You
Amy’s scream alerted the teacher, who took her straight to the school infirmary. By the time she returned to deal with Dolly, Dolly had an identical gash on her own stomach. By then it was too late for her to create the illusion that Amy was the one causing harm.
The principal called us in for an urgent meeting and wasted no time in expressing her outrage at the horrific incident. I suggested taking them to a child psychologist, but the counselor recounted every incident involving the girls. They were inspiring their classmates to violence and needed to be expelled for the safety of the other students.
I was pregnant and already stressed with morning sickness. There was no way I could cope with the screaming, sabotage, and sadistic violence at home. That’s when Lyle suggested the Three Fates Therapeutic Boarding School, which came with therapists, psychologists, and everything we thought was needed to help Dolly.
We know people who have sent children there. Lyle has a colleague named Dalton who he invited over for dinner. During the meal, Dalton revealed that he recently discovered he had a son from a previous relationship with a woman who passed away from cancer.
The son was a little older than the twins, but so disturbed by his mother’s death that he struck out at another of Dalton’s sons, smashing his head over and over into a urinal! Dalton senthim to Three Fates, and the transformation was nothing short of miraculous.
The story gave me hope. Maybe this was what Dolly needed. A place where someone could get to the root of her issues and help her overcome this troubling behavior.
The morning of the tour, I was so crippled with morning sickness that I could barely get out of bed. Lyle had to take care of everything that day. I stayed at home with Amy, struggling through a whirlpool of nausea.
They both returned later in the day, smiling. The principal, Mr. Delta, suggested that both girls attend the summer session, which would be like a camp, so they would learn how to coexist in peace. I was reluctant at first, but Lyle reminded me that Dolly often complained of Amy breaking her possessions.
He convinced me that Dolly’s violent outbursts were triggered by Amy, and that therapy for one twin wouldn’t be enough to resolve the issue.
But it seems the school wasn’t enough, either, and my dream of a perfect family is drowning in blood and screams.
I don’t know what to do. Dolly is still raging about being framed by Amy, even though she was found with the murder weapon. Maybe it’s time to take her back to the Salentino family. They’re the ones who allowed a monster like Giorgi to reproduce. They should deal with the consequences.
If I left her there, Mother Salentino would welcome Dolly back with hugs andtorta della nonna, but she’d grill Dolly until she revealed our aliases. The old bitch and a small army of mafia goons would return for Amy, then stick a knife in my throat for my betrayal.
Lyle just came in, clutching his bleeding hand to his chest and asking for permission to contact Mr. Delta. He promised not to mention Charlotte and swore that anything Dolly discussedwith the medical staff was covered by psychiatrist-patient privilege.
As Dolly howled her murderous intentions toward Amy, I gave him a begrudging nod. There’s no denying it. She’s beyond help and is in desperate need of professional intervention.
THIRTY-SIX
XERO
We’re nowhere close to reaching Ravencliff Island, and the loss of contact with Tyler is unsettling. I drum my fingers on the catamaran’s helm station, my gaze flicking between my navigation app and the vessel’s display. Each second drags, the engine’s roar doing nothing to quiet my thoughts—Amethyst is out there, and time is slipping away.
Operatives move around the helm, focused—some trying to reconnect with Tyler, others studying maps, a few scanning the horizon. Jynxson is talking to Camila, who’s keeping watch over Reverend Thomas. We’re set to storm the asylum on motorcycles to rescue Amethyst, but we need to locate her first. Everything depends on it.
According to Dolly and her companions, Amethyst could be anywhere on the grounds or within the asylum. It’s not much to go on, but it’s all we have. My gut tightens with the possibility that Amethyst, my little ghost, could slip away before we find her. I can’t let that happen.
I’d dispatch drones, but they won’t be useful until we’re six miles offshore. That’s another twenty minutes of waiting, while Amethyst is out there alone, injured, traumatized, and hunted.
If Father catches up with her, the punishment for daring to escape will be deadly. He might just decide to end her immediately and use the more compliant Dolly for tomorrow’s shoot. A shudder runs down my spine as I force myself not to contemplate the horrors he’d inflict on a woman identical to the one he subjected to years of degradation and near death.
“Anyone there?” A voice crackles over the speaker, pulling me out of my thoughts.
“Tyler?” I ask.
“I’m back,” he replies, the relief in his voice palpable. “And I might have spotted her.” Tyler launches into an explanation of how he hacked into the maritime surveillance satellite system and located a bus moving at high speed along the coastline.
“How do you know it’s her?” I ask.
“The system only captures still images at five-minute intervals,” he says. “I tracked the bus’s route back to the asylum, where someone was firing shots at its rear end.”
My heart picks up speed. “Where is it now?”
Tyler rattles off coordinates, and the helmswoman punches them into the navigation system. The vessel adjusts course, and I glare out into the endless expanse of sea.
“We’re heading to intercept,” I say.
“Are you sure?” Jynxson asks. “Amethyst might still be in the asylum.”