I don't sleep that night. Me and Lynch stay up talking until the dawn light is peeking in through the windows. At six AM I head home just long enough to change into uniform and grab some breakfast before I set off for school. Not that I want to go, but I know that if I skipped or called in sick the school would call home to check with my parents, and then there'd be questions and suspicion and trouble. Best to carry on as normal. I left Lynch in town with a handful of change and the promise that I'd come and find her right after the end of school.
As I walk across the park my head is spinning. Could it be true? In the rational light of day it sounds impossible, absurd. Who could believe a story like that? And yet there was no mistaking how earnest Lynch had been in the telling of it. By the end, when she told me how she escaped, and what happened to her friend Syra, she was crying freely. So was I. Back then in that empty house it all seemed so real.
And there were parts of it that rang true as well. That program she mentioned, run by some man called Ingleman. I remember when he came and gave a talk at my school about it. I even remember that Darren signed up to do the tests, although he dropped it later on when it clashed with his hockey games. Could it be possible? Or am I just believing her because I want so badly for there to be some hope that Darren's still alive.
I think of how she talked about her escape. The boy who helped her over the fence--the boy with the tattoos. She described him so well, right down to the scar on his forehead. The scar that I hadn't told her about, that she couldn't possibly have known of beforehand. Was that Darren? The thought fills me with fear and hope and sadness. Where is he now? Is he still alive? Was he punished for helping her escape?
Or is it all just a lie? A little story she concocted to win my sympathy, to keep me on her side? Maybe she's crazy. Maybe it's all happening in her head.
Even if it is all true, what can I do about it? I've never felt so powerless in my life. I have to act, have to do the right thing, rescue Lynch, rescue my brother, bring my family back together . . . but I have no idea how to start at something so big. Last night, Lynch almost laughed when I said we should go to the police.
"It's the police I'm running from, Laura," she told me. "Ingleman's powerful. He has influence. By now I'll be listed on half the wanted lists in the country as a deranged terrorist. They won't even listen to my story before they slap me in a cell and call Ingleman to come fetch."
I'm still turning this all over in my head as I approach the school gates, joining the stream of other pupils. What can I do? I've never felt so powerless. Like always, I end up thinking of Darren. Wondering about him. Hoping for him. It all comes back to my brother.
I'm so wrapped up that I'm at the gates before I notice the police cars parked up on the street outside.
