ANDERSON “ANDI” ROE:
“What are you doing?” Ivy found me kneeling on the floor, rewiring the auxiliary cords into the megaphone.
“Fixing the volume.” But I knew that wasn’t what she was asking about.
Her voice drifted closer. “I know that. What are you doing—” she twirled her finger around her head— “up there? In your mind? You’re making a weird face."
What was I doing? Overthinking Chaos running out of the house, not telling me. Reckless. Things like that get people killed.
Of course, I didn’t want to say any of that to Ivy. I told her, “I don’t like it when Chaos and Elise aren’t home.”
She kept her hands behind her back. “Andi. They’ll be fine. Right?”
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But Chaos wasn’t fine. She stood on the doorstep, eyes wide, covered in red. The ground seemed to roll, and it took me too many seconds to react.
“I’m okay.” She did not move from the porch. “Really, I am.”
“What happened?” I should’ve asked, Where is the blood coming from? But then I saw the gauze on her hand, came to my own conclusions, and grabbed her arm, pulled her to the bathroom with the medical supplies.
Chaos sat on the bench, unwrapped the gauze—“It’s not as bad as you think”— and laid her hand on the counter, palm up, a cut right across the middle.
I dug through the cabinets. Set rubbing alcohol, then gauze on the counter tops.
“Then what is it?” I asked. “Because I’m thinking a lot of things.”
“It was just someone who wanted food.” She squirmed as I doused the cut with alcohol. “It wasn’t that bad.”
I gave her a look. “Bad enough to cut your hand.”
“That was my fault. I tripped.”
“Who gave you the gauze?”
“There was some in my bag.” She blinked several times.
“Christine.” I sighed. “What really happened?”
She wouldn’t tell me. I could feel my frustration building in my hands, my jaw. “Fine. I’m going to the Greenhouse instead of you.”
“What? But you said—”
“You’re gonna get yourself killed.”
“Andi.” Her voice dropped. “I wouldn’t be fighting you if I didn’t think I could handle it.”
Too many variables. I bit the inside of my cheek, wrapped her hand in new gauze.
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Maybe things were fine. Maybe she was telling the truth. And I almost convinced myself that I’d overreacted, but she was too quiet, almost meek. She said nothing when Elise got home—just stood behind me, tucked her bandaged hand behind her back.
During dinner, she cleared her plate, disappeared upstairs. The three of us watched, even when she was out of sight, even when all that was left was the thump of her feet on the stairs.
I could feel their eyes on me. Ivy and Elise, looking for an answer. I had no answers for them.
As I poured water over the dishes, Elise nudged me. “What happened?”
“Something at the Greenhouse. Won’t tell me.”
She exhaled through her teeth. “Classic.”
“Unstoppable force,” Ivy mumbled from the table, “immovable object.”
Elise held up the duffle bag and shook it a little. “She didn’t bring back any food.”
Which meant she actually listened to my prevent, run, attack strategy.
I leaned against the counter, biting my knuckles, almost a little relieved.
“I’ll try talking to her.” Ivy said. “Maybe she’ll listen to me.”
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and then Add to home screen.