Nada's Escape: Fighters' lies

24.3 Blinkers.

Henry flees the house as soon as we arrive, glad to catch up with so-and-so near the marketplace. I stare at the frames on the wall, trying to block out any stray glances as Finley trails Amy down the hall. Blinkers. I need blinkers like they give the race horses to stay focused. No distractions.

Amy shuffles Penny into the kitchen and shoos Finley down the hall to the bedroom. I catch Amy's gaze, walking backwards down the hall to keep it.

Two minutes, I mouth. Amy nods, her lips becoming a thin line.

I stagger into the bedroom, pulling the door almost closed behind me. Finley turns to me from the window, clearing his throat as if to ask something. I hold up a warning hand.

I don't want to talk about last night. There's too much I can't comprehend and far too many risks. I shouldn't even be here.

But I reach beneath the cool pillow and find the silk of Penny's sweethearts ribbon. I pull it out, like a river of blood through my fingers and clench my fist around the knot. The ribbon is still just as strangled as the last time I'd tried.

Finley takes an awkward step toward me and clarifies, "So we each take one half and pull?"

I nod, turning my focus on the free world outside. So much brighter, so much easier to see than the boy with the kaleidoscope eyes. The lawn seems to glow green beside the red dirt path and a hills hoist somehow manages to look inane, despite its eerie creaking in the breeze.

"It's been tugged so tight that it'll take some wriggling to undo." Not like Finley's council oath band. Why had that been tied so loosely?

I hold the knot out before me, excess folds sliding down my wrist. Finley delicately places his fingers into the knot's gaps. I wait until he settles and I catch his nod in my periphery before walking my own fingers carefully into the knot's grooves.

"Ready?" I ask, winding my fingers further into the knot's heart. As we begin to pull, the action inspires déjà vu of popping bonbons at Christmas and the silly coloured paper hats my family would stretch over their hair. I'm pretty sure the ribbon doesn't go 'pop' but it does start to give, sliding looser. I wind my fingers deeper and I pull again, unsure if I'm brushing fingertips or ribbon as the knot starts to slip.

"You guys are taking way too long." Amy's voice breaks into the room through a slit in the doorway. I feel the knot melt apart under our fingers, unravelling like spaghetti. I withhold a gasp and try to catch the ribbon. Amy takes in the mess with widening eyes. She looks exactly how I feel.

I suck in a breath, backing up from Finley, half tripping over the bed. He tries to catch me and I skitter further away, back towards the door and Amy.

A cold flash of fear hits my stomach: did I lose time again? I compulsively check my watch. I can't remember exactly when we'd come in here; probably only two minutes though right? Not an emergency. Even so, I keep my eyes from Finley as I ask Amy, "Help me retie this?"

Somehow, Amy musters up half a smile. "'Course."

A crash reverberates through the house. We all leap for the door, ribbon thrown across the floor behind us. Amy slips through first, then Finley and I'm left to trail along the hall behind. I enter the kitchen to see a spray of orange juice and crushed glass across the floor. Penny just frowns at the open fridge door like she forgot something.

"Did you drop something?" Finley asks, startling Penny. She glances at her hands first, as if surprised to find them empty. Then she sees the floor. She blinks.

"Oh how did that happen?" she breathes. "The glass must have slipped right out of my fingers."

I survey the juice spilled on the counter too, around the open carton. Hmm... maybe there's more to this.

She starts forward as though to close the fridge but Finley 's hand snaps out, grabbing her before she can take a step.

"Woah, there's glass there."

Amy finds a dustpan underneath the sink and starts to clear up the glass as Finley pulls Penny back towards the hallway. "It's alright," he says. "It's just juice. Why don't you tell me about something else. What's your family like?"

I hear them as they walk down the hall to the lounge room. I crouch to pick up the larger sections of glass for Amy.

"My family." Penny breathes. "I don't know. Its just... my sister really-" Her voice catches on the word, a sob breaking through her. I peer around the doorway to see her crumpled on the hall floor beside Finley. Slowly he crouches down and rubs her back.

"It's okay. It hurts to miss her, doesn't it?"

Something catches in my throat, even as I turn back to the kitchen, jumping over the spill to close the fridge. It does hurt to lose a sister... but only weepers cry about it in the daytime. I shove the lid back on the juice bottle, feeling the plastic slip under my fingers, the cardboard sides crackling under the pressure.

My gut twists, remembering how I'd delivered her sleeping into the arms of Henry not six days before she could have been with the rest of us.