“What you need is to stop fighting me, Ellie,” Hannah pressed. “You need to come home.” “I’m not fighting. I’m just saying.” Ellie’s lower lip quivered. Bundled in a watch cap, two sweaters, snow pants, two pairs of socks, and a parka, she reminded Chris of the shrunken old women, swathed beneath reams of blankets, to whom he’d used to read back at Rule’s hospice. At Ellie’s tone, Bella let out another moan through a froth of scarlet foam. Gulping back a sob, Ellie stroked the horse’s poll. “I should be the one to do it. I had to leave Eli and Roc. Don’t make me leave Bella, too.”
“It’s not the same. Eli and Roc were not your fault.” Hannah said it to Ellie but aimed daggers at him.
Chris knew she was right. This whole mess—the barn; Bella; Eli and Roc, trapped under the ice or at the bottom of the lake—was all on him. No one wanted to say it, but Chris thought they might not find the boy and his dog until spring, if then.
“Yes, it is. Cutting the ice was my idea, and now E-Eli . . .” Ellie looked up at Jayden. “Is my gun big enough? For Bella?”
Jayden shook his head. “You’d need to use one of our rifles.”
“Which would be much too heavy,” Hannah put in. “It’s not your job, Ellie. You’re not old enough. If you love Bella, you’ll let us end her suffering.”
“Hannah’s right.” Jayden bent, reached a tentative hand. “We have to go, Ellie. It’s getting late. Hannah has to check Isaac, and the animals need us. Wouldn’t you like to help?”
“Yes, but . . .” Ellie’s brimming eyes overflowed. Bella groaned again. “Shh, girl.” Ellie impatiently backhanded tears from her cheeks. “It’s okay.” To Jayden: “Of course, I’ll help. But I want to help my horse, too.”
“Then you’ll let us—,” Hannah began.
“I’ll help you, Ellie,” Chris said.
Hannah turned him a frosty glare. “Thanks, Chris.” She said it like he was a bug. “But this has nothing to do with you.”
No, it’s got everything to do with me. Ignoring Hannah, he squatted until he and Ellie were eye to eye. “We can use my gun.”
“Chris,” Hannah said.
The distress on Ellie’s face eased for a second before clenching again. “But it’s too heavy for me.”
“Chris,” Hannah said again.
“Leave him alone, Hannah,” Jayden said.
“What?” Hannah goggled up at the other boy, who only returned her look with a resolute expression. “What did you say?”
“You heard me,” he said. “I have a say in this, too, remember?”
“Jayden, this isn’t the time to—”
“Here’s what we’ll do,” Chris said to Ellie. “We’ll hold the rifle together. I’ll keep it steady and you pull the trigger. You’ll have to use both trigger fingers, but you can do it.”
“Really?” Ellie’s chin quivered. “You’d do that?”
“Chris,” Hannah rasped, clearly having abandoned her argument with Jayden. To his ears, she sounded as if she were clamping back an impulse either to scream or blow his head off. Possibly both. “Ellie is too young to—”
“It’s her choice, Hannah.” Chris thought there was no irony in his tone. “Isn’t choice what you’re all about?”
“What?” Hannah blinked as if he’d slapped her, and then all her frustration—and her grief, Chris thought—poured out in a poisonous rush. “Don’t twist this around. This is your fault, your responsibility. You brought this on us. You think helping her with something like this makes up for what you’ve done? For what you didn’t do today?”
“Hannah,” Jayden said. “That’s not fair. We killed three. You weren’t there.”
Her eyes blazed in the firelight. “I didn’t need to be. Chris had Lena. You said so. But he didn’t take the shot. I don’t know if I care to understand why—”
“For the same reason I’m not sure I could shoot you,” Chris said, roughly. He kept reliving the moment: Lena in his sights, her face huge in the scope and so . . . Changed; that terrible sweep of mingled pity and dismay that stole his breath and robbed him of the chance to end this. Well, end her. He’d shot, finally, but pulled it at the last second. Then, it was all about Ellie. “I’d feel the same about Jayden, or anyone I know or care about.”
Hannah gave a brittle laugh. “This is caring? You led them to us. You should’ve recognized what was happening to Lena, but you were blind, Chris; you were willfully blind. If you’d been honest from the beginning, we could’ve taken precautions. We could’ve left.”
“We’ll still have to leave,” Jayden said. His face had paled.
“Yes, but on our terms, not after losing animals, a child. After Lena killed her own brother.”
“Hannah.” Ellie’s face knotted. “Don’t. Don’t yell at Chris.”
“You think you can wash away that kind of blood, Chris? There’s no way you can make this right!” She actually balled her fist and shook it in his face. “Isaac’s old. That fire did him no favors. If he lives, he might forgive you. You and Jayden may be best friends all of a sudden—”
“Hannah,” Jayden said.
“And maybe Jayden understands, but I don’t. I wish you had died.”
“Hannah!” Jayden snatched her wrist. “Stop this!”
“Let me go, let me—” The crack her palm made on Jayden’s cheek was brisk as a rifle shot. Seething, she wrenched free and screamed at Chris, “I wished we’d never met you! I wished you’d stayed dead! Why couldn’t you have died, why didn’t you die?”
“Hannah!” Ellie said. “Stop! Jayden, make her—”
“I don’t know, Hannah.” Every word was another twist of the knife, and Chris thought he deserved it all. What could he say? I was afraid? “I don’t know why I’m alive, and I’m sorry I didn’t die. You want me to leave and I will, first thing.”
“No,” Ellie began.
“Oh yes, of course.” Hannah started for him. “Leave now, leave us to deal with your mess—”
Jayden put himself between Chris and Hannah. “What are you doing?” When she looked like she was going to swing again, Jayden put up his hands to ward her off. “What are you?”