“Louise! The act is ending!” Mr. Howe paused with his fingers over the console, obviously wanting to push buttons, but not sure which ones. “Close the curtain!”
“Yes, I’m getting it.” She tucked away her phone and stabbed the correct button. As the wall of curtains rolled shut, she triggered the intermission music. What else? What was she supposed to do? Everyone was off stage, waiting for the big backdrop of the mermaid lagoon to be lowered from the rafters. She used the sliders to carefully set them into place and then flicked on the holographic projectors, covering the stage with rolling surf.
Jillian was across the stage, helping to move Marooner’s Rock into place, watching her with worry. “What?” Jillian mouthed.
“Later.” Louise motioned for her focus on the play. She could barely think past the flood of worry. One of them had to stay clearheaded. Why weren’t their parents answering their phones? Why hadn’t they texted to say why they were late? Why were the police here? What had the cop told Principal Wiley?
The timer on the intermission music was nearly over.
She triggered the holograph of the mermaid perched on the rock, and opened the curtains back up. Her duties fulfilled, she pulled her phone back out.
She couldn’t bring up her father’s location. His phone had to be dead for nothing to register. She checked the GPS on her mother’s phone. It gave an address Louise didn’t recognize. As she zoomed in tight on the map, she gasped. It was a hospital. “Oh, no. No.”
What should she do? Was that why the policeman was here? Because their parents were in an accident and had been taken to a hospital?
* * *
The rest of the play was a blur. The massive boulder rolled on, crushing her underneath it. And then the play was over and whatever was coming next was sweeping toward them. The applause was loud and warm but Louise felt hollow and that the sound was echoing through her. Zahara pulled her out onto the stage for the bow and Jillian caught her hand and squeezed it tight. Jillian was shimmering with the excitement of being the star. Louise wanted to protect Jillian from the looming disaster, but she also wanted someone to lean on, to be strong.
Everyone poured down into the audience to be claimed by their parents.
Out of the crowd of adults came Principal Wiley, the policeman and Miss Hamilton. Tears were streaming down Miss Hamilton’s face.
Jillian looked up at the adults and caught Louise’s hand like a lifeline. “What’s going on?”
“Oh!” Miss Hamilton cried. “Oh, girls!”
She dropped to her knees in front of them and gathered them into her arms. Her lilac perfume was overpoweringly sweet.
“What’s wrong?” Jillian shouted.
“You’re scaring us.” Louise tried to push Miss Hamilton back. She wanted someone to cling to, someone to be strong for both her and Jillian, not this weeping person that mistook weakness for comforting.
The police officer crouched down beside them. He was big and scary but at least he wasn’t crying. “I’m afraid your mommy and daddy were in a really bad accident. Their car was hit by a big truck.”
Jillian started to wail.
Louise reached for the police officer and caught tight to his shirt. “Are—are they—are they dead?”
“No!” Jillian howled. “No!”
The officer flinched at Jillian’s cry but nodded solemnly. Louise pulled Jillian between them and clung to his strength. Jillian burrowed tight into Louise, wailing, refusing to take comfort from the man.
Principal Wiley said something about going to the office and pulling their records to call their emergency contact. “Your grandmother is on her way. She was at a charity event nearby.”
“We don’t have…” Louise started to say that they didn’t have a grandmother and then remembered that they did. “What?”
“Here she is now.” Principal Wiley beckoned to someone at the lobby doors.
And like something out of a nightmare, Anna Desmarais came sweeping down the center aisle, tall and regal as a queen. She wore a black cocktail dress and diamonds at her neck.
Louise clung tighter to the officer against the flood of impossibility that was about to sweep them away from everything they knew. “Aunt Kitty is our emergency contact.”
Principal Wiley shook his head. “According to your records, Kitty Kennedy is a family friend. We needed to call an actual relative.”
Louise whimpered and looked to Jillian. She wanted Jillian to stop crying; her twin was so much better at explaining.
“Oh, you poor babies.” Anna sunk down and opened her arms. “Yes, I know, it hurts so bad. Come here, ladybug.”