Every Secret Thing

But once on her bed, sleep would not come. All she could think of was Alice, her threats, her taunts. Alice could make a person do horrible things. It would be nothing for Alice to make others believe that Ro

You be the daddy and I’ll be the mommy and this is our baby.

That was how the game had begun, and it was only a game at first. They were going to take care of the baby they had found. She lived in a big house, Alice said. Her parents would probably give them a lot of money for finding her and keeping her safe. But it might take a day or two before a reward was offered, so they had to take good care of her until then.

How much money? Ro

Oh, a lot, Alice had said with confidence. Enough so I can go to St. William of York again next year.

And me, too?

No, Alice had said, looking vague. You still have to go to public school. But you might be able to buy your mother a new car.

It was on the second day that the baby had gotten sick and fussy. Alice stopped talking about the reward and started imagining the kind of life that a sick little baby would have in a big house where everything was perfect. Except for her.

No one loves her, Alice had said mournfully over and over. No one will ever love her.

Should we take her back? Ro

They’ll only leave her on the porch again, hoping someone else will take her. They don’t want her. She’s not pretty, and she cries all the time, so they want her to disappear.

It was so hot tonight, especially in Ro

You be the daddy and I’ll be the mommy and this is our baby.

As the daddy, Ro

By the third day, she became listless and dull, probably from eating the wrong things, but Alice had insisted they could not take her back. The baby was dying, she a

“You have to take care of this baby,” Alice had told Ro

“Can’t we take her back?”

“It’s too late,” Alice said. “They’ll think it’s our fault. But it’s not. You have to do this, Ro

She hadn’t used a pillow, though. She had brought one as Alice had instructed, the one from her bed, still in its Scooby-Doo pillowcase. But in the end, it had seemed wrong to put something so large over the small face. Instead, Ro

When the body was still and the baby quiet, Ro

It was Helen, not Ro

“I can’t undo what you’ve done,” she told Ro

Now, Ro

Ro

It proved to be hard work, opening her veins, but not as hard as it had been all those years ago, when Ro

Finally, the blood began flowing and Ro