“Me?”
“Yes. I think God was a little obsessed with you,” Mason says. It sends chills through me. “Back when the bus crashed, he wanted to find you another place to live. He didn’t want an agent taking on a child. But I fought for you.”
“Why?”
“Did I ever tell you about my wife?” Mason asks.
“No, but I know,” I say quietly. I’m not proud of it, but I’ve snooped in Mason’s personnel file. I did it regularly until I found out that he had a wife who died in a skiing accident. After that, I was riddled with guilt and never opened his file again.
“Good,” Mason surprises me by saying. “I’m not always the best at talking about personal stuff, but I’m glad you know.” He pauses. “You would have liked her. She was really funny. And she was a hell of a cook.”
I smile. “I’m sure she was great.”
“She always encouraged me,” Mason says. “She supported me through med school. Then, when the program first tried to recruit me, I thought I was too inexperienced to take part. I declined at first and she was upset; she said that I was blind to my own potential.”
Mason looks distracted for a second, then comes back to earth.
“But she died, as you know. We were on vacation in Colorado. She lost control on her skis and hit a tree. It was immediate.” Mason’s eyes cloud over. “But what’s not in the file is that she was pregnant at the time. It was so early that even she didn’t know.”
“I’m so sorry,” I nearly whisper.
“Thank you,” Mason says. “It was awful. But her death brought me to the program. I decided to pursue what she’d wanted me to. And then when you showed up, a child without a home, I saw it as my opportunity. It was as if I could feel Zoe pushing me forward, telling me to do it.”
“I’m glad you did,” I say.
“Me, too. I just hope that I didn’t negatively impact you in some way, like God did to Cassie,” Mason says, worried. “I’ve tried my best, but you’ve hardly grown up in a typical household.”
“But no matter where it’s been, it’s been a loving one,” I say. “That’s all that matters. And you’re nothing like God. You’re a real father. I’ll always be thankful for your decision.”
Mason holds my stare for a moment and smiles warmly.
“It was the best decision of my life.”
When I turn off the light on the day, my conversation with Mason fresh in my mind, a sick thought plagues me: If God was willing to go to such great lengths as purposely killing twenty-two people to start and protect his pet project, what else might he have done?
If, for example, he wanted Mason in the program but Mason wasn’t interested, would God give him—or his wife—a little push?
Could he—would he—kill Mason’s wife to lure him in?
And what about me and my accident-prone tendencies? Has it really been all about me? Sure, I’m forgetful, and yes, I do silly things. Everyone does. But I was under the thumb of a maniac and his ambitious daughter.
The thought that runs through my head much too late at night is this:
If he killed me once…
Did he do it again?
forty-five
In Audrey’s skinny jeans and a deep purple top, I walk through the doors of Alameda South High School feeling giddy and jittery at the same time. Everyone eyeballs the new girl but, thanks to the tour after registration, I don’t have to embarrass myself by asking anyone for directions.
A shorter girl with long blond hair and green eyes not quite as lovely as Mason’s smiles at me from her locker, which is next to mine. A pit forms in my stomach as I think of meeting Audrey for the first time. But instead of turning away, I force myself to smile back before going to work on my combination.
“First day?” the girl says, striking up conversation. I look at her.
“Yep,” I say. “We just moved here.”
“I’m Elsie Phillips,” she says, smiling again. “I moved here from Portland in August.”