Never Tell Them, N.L. Hinkens [unputdownable books txt] 📗

minute Sonia walked into the kitchen, she could tell something was amiss. The kids were coloring at the table, a trail of cookie crumbs across the pages. Jessica’s eyes darted guiltily from adult to adult. Mary shot Evelyn a tense look before reaching for her stick and getting to her feet. “I should go. I need to let my dog out.”

Wordlessly, Sonia followed her to the door and laid a hand on her arm. “Mary, did something happen? I saw the look you gave Mom.”

Mary’s shriveled lips trembled, her rheumy eyes filled with angst. “Not exactly. It’s just that Henry—“ She broke off and fixed an apologetic gaze on Sonia. “I don’t want to stir up any trouble … it was just so upsetting. Of course, he might have been making it up. He’s only a kid, after all.”

The knot in Sonia’s stomach tightened. “Making what up? What did he tell you?”

Mary adjusted the strap of her varnished black purse. “Well, the kids wanted to draw, you see, so Jessica fetched her art supplies and she suggested they draw their families. Henry drew his mom, and everything was going great, but then I asked him if he was going to draw his dad too, and he shook his head.” Mary hesitated and threw a nervous look over her shoulder. “Naturally, I asked him why. It’s not that I was being nosy or anything, I just—“

“Of course not,” Sonia soothed, desperate for her to get to the point.

“He said his dad was a bad man,” Mary whispered loudly. “That’s when Jessica asked him if he was bad because he choked his mom. At first, I thought I misheard her, and then I scolded her for saying such a thing—I could see Henry was fighting back tears.” She pressed her lips together. “Jessica was upset with me, but I didn’t realize it was something Henry had told her. At any rate, I managed to distract them with some cookies. The next thing I know Henry’s drawing a picture of himself inside his house with tears running down his face. I asked him why he was crying, and he said, because I was yocked in.” Mary arched her sparse brows. “I didn’t know what the poor kid was talking about at first, but then Jessica caught on that he was saying, locked in. He told us he was locked in his room, every day.”

Sonia frowned, her pulse thundering in her temples. “Did he say who locked him in?”

Mary gave a weighty nod. “Yes, his dad, but that’s not all. He said his mother was locked in too.”

13

The following morning, Sonia was still at a loss to know how much of what Henry had said to believe. She backed out of her garage, torn between driving to the hospital to pick up Ray, as promised, or going straight to the police station to report what his son had said. It seemed improbable that Ray could have kept his child and cancer-ridden wife locked in a room without someone finding out about it. His wife must have had family, friends, neighbors checking up on her—not to mention doctors, and appointments to keep.

Did Henry simply have an over-active imagination? Was he desperate for attention in the wake of the loss of his mother? Turning on her blinker, Sonia merged robotically with the traffic on the highway, her mind churning through the possibilities. There could be a more benign explanation. Ray might have locked Henry in his room to keep him safe while he ran an errand or something—the actions of a desperate parent. Maybe he’d dashed to the pharmacy for a prescription for his wife. Then again, if Ray thought he was capable of killing his father, then maybe he was capable of locking his child in a room as a form of punishment, or perhaps even to avoid having to care for him.

The traffic light up ahead turned red and Sonia slowed to a halt, tapping the palm of her hand on the steering wheel. The frustrating part was that Ray couldn’t remember anything. When she’d broken the news to him that he had a son, he’d been genuinely shocked. But he’d also expressed concern for Henry’s welfare—he hadn’t sounded like someone who was likely to choke his wife in front of his young son, or lock them in a room, or deprive his kid of toys or treats. Was it possible he could have forgotten that he was a monster?

A horn blared behind her, jolting Sonia into action. She floored the gas through the intersection, and took a sharp left toward the hospital, sealing in the decision she’d been mulling over ever since she’d left the house. She would pick Ray up and bring him home. After that, she would decide what to do about him.

When she entered his hospital room, he was perched on the edge of the bed, clutching some paperwork.

“Did they discharge you already?” Sonia asked, handing him the clothes she’d brought from his house.

Ray nodded. ”Doctor Robinson stopped by earlier with my test results. He said I’m good to go home with a responsible adult.” He gave her a sheepish grin. “I told him you were very levelheaded. Although, I’ve no idea if there’s any truth to that. You might be here to kidnap me.”

Sonia gave a nervous laugh in response. How ironic that he felt he had as much reason to fear her as she did him.

He disappeared into the bathroom with his clothes and emerged a few minutes later dressed in sweats and a long-sleeved cotton shirt that Sonia had dug out of one of the moving boxes.

“I really appreciate you going out of your way like this,” Ray said. “I don’t want to become a burden, but the bummer is I haven’t been cleared to drive yet, and the doctor wants to see me again in a couple of days.”

Sonia managed to mask her irritation with a thin smile. “I’m sure I can get you to