“No! I want it now!”
Evelyn scooped her niece into her arms, kissing her warm cheek just below her eye patch, ignoring the beginning of a temper tantrum. So far during this ordeal, Christina had been surprisingly low-key, taking all the confusion and surprises in stride. Evelyn was immensely grateful that the preschooler hadn’t drawn any extra attention to them by throwing a fit, since news of the “abduction” was probably already on TV.
In fact, her niece had sailed through all of it—the unplanned after-school pickup, a strange motel room by the interstate, the drastic change in Evelyn’s appearance and her own haircut. Christina was cheerful through much of the car ride from Maine to the Logan Airport parking lot, then slept on the train and bus to the Cape. And she’d been happy and excited on the ferry to Bayberry. But as of right that moment, Christina had clearly hit the wall. She was heading into full meltdown mode, just minutes from safety.
Evelyn knew distraction was her only hope, and she nearly laughed with relief when a young woman in a sparkly mermaid costume met them at the end of the gangway, handing Christina a purple mermaid-shaped lollipop. “Are pirates allowed to have candy?” the girl asked.
“Of course!” Evelyn smiled. “That was very sweet. Thanks.”
“Sure. Have fun!”
Once they were on the dock, Evelyn took a minute to get organized. She lowered Christina to her feet and unwrapped the candy, gave it to her niece, and tossed the cellophane wrapper in a nearby trash can. Then she hoisted the large duffel over her shoulder and grabbed Christina’s hand. She began to walk. According to the map of Bayberry Island she’d printed out at the public library computer, the Sand Dollar Motel was four blocks from the dock. It was funny how it had seemed like miles when she’d been here as a kid. Now, if only she could keep Christina calm during the walk through town, then she could get her something to eat and put her to bed early. And then maybe Evelyn could breathe.
Please, please, she thought to herself. Whoever’s looking down on us—God, Amanda, Mama, the Mermaid, or anyone at all—please give us a lucky break.
Christina began to whine. Then, even with her lips tight around the lollipop, she began to cry, shoulders heaving and body trembling. It wasn’t long before Evelyn saw beet red splotches form on her niece’s cheeks and throat. It was going to be a bad one, and she couldn’t blame her. She felt like having a meltdown, too.
Evelyn scooped Christina into her arms once more and clasped her tight against her left hip. She kept walking.
Pure hell. That’s what this exhausted little girl had been through in the last two months, beginning with the death of her mother. Any healing that had taken place since Amanda died was destroyed the day a Boston lawyer showed up at the farm with his client’s petition for paternity and full custody. Since then, life had been a blur of magistrate hearings, lawyers, stress, tears, and heated discussions, all of it baffling to Christina. The poor little kid was even dragged off to play paper dolls with a man she’d never met before.
That’s when temper tantrums became the norm.
“It’s OK, baby.” Evelyn glanced around the crowd to make sure no one looked at them with suspicion. Thank God, nobody seemed to notice them. It was just a stroke of luck—the Mermaid Festival on Bayberry Island was nothing but one long and wild costume party, and she and Christina could mask their appearance any way they wished and still blend right in.
It would buy them time. A week, to be exact. That’s how long Evelyn had to figure out their next move.
“I . . . I want . . .” Christina sobbed and hiccupped so hard that the lollipop had become a choking hazard. When Evelyn pulled it from her lips, the sobbing only worsened.
“Just a few more minutes, sweetie. I promise.” She pressed her nose into the crook of Christina’s warm neck, inhaling the scent of the little person she loved more than anyone or anything in the world. “Put your head on my shoulder. It’s going to be all right.”