Roots

25. Apple Doesn't Fall Far

let the head-hopping begin :)

That night, Heather caught them in the foyer in dead silence. 

"There's fresh chocolate milk in the fridge," she called from the couch, never lifting her eyes off her laptop screen. She never got tired of the stampede to the fridge after announcing that. 

The shuffle of closet hangers and shoes being kicked off resonated without an answer. It was early in the evening, nowhere near the end of Lauren's volunteering job. The boys must have returned quickly, she assumed. She checked the hall to make sure, surprised at first to count all three of them standing there, but the sunburnt look on the girl's face baffled her into speechlessness. 

Ethan shifted his weight by the pillar, raising terrified eyes to her. "Mom..."

She pushed off the cushion and prodded the laptop off her lap. Lucas grabbed his sister's shoulders and pushed her in front of Heather, sitting her on the white ottoman. 

"Someone put mercury in the makeup." He kneeled on the floor beside her and flung stray hairstrands out of her face for her to get a good view. Lauren slumped into her hands moaning. He snatched the box of tissues from the coffee table and stared up at their open-mouthed guardian. "Is there anything we can do?"

"Lauren?" Heather said. "How did this happen?"

"The makeup lady... She knew what I was. I didn't feel it at first. I should have felt it, I don't know why I didn't."

She pulled a tissue and blew her nose, then rubbed her lids with the heel of her palms. Ethan strode into the living room warily, sitting beside them. Swallowing her own dread, Heather scooted closer and clasped her chin. "Can you let me see? I just need to look at..."

Her heart sank to her feet. Lauren's chin tipped up, revealing glossy reddened eyes and wide tear tracks along cheeks that could have been mistaken for a blatant case of rosacea. Her brother sent her another desperate glance, which was so unlike him. 

"Maybe it was a slow-release formula, I... Oh my God. Did the lady see this?" Seeing as no one rushed to answer, she stared at each of them. "Who saw this happen? I need to know everything."

Lucas smacked his hands over his face and raked them through his hair. He sprang up, wearing a circle into the rug. "We noticed when Ethan and I went for a tour. She was with that redhead, who told us Lauren's wasn't feeling well and that's when I saw her face. We ran into the back room for her clothes and everything. The woman was waiting for us. She saw us all, saw that Lauren was badly hurt."

Heather's nails dug into her own palm.  "How did you get out of there? There was only one?"

"She let us out."

"What?"

His hands smacked against his sides. "I don't fucking know! She let us leave, Heather! I didn't exactly stop to ask her if she'd rather just take out the guns, I just walked out with everyone!"

She released Lauren's chin, her dread transforming into a potent sense of alarm. Out of reflex, she reached out for her son's hand and squeezed. "Are you okay?"

"She said something about finding them again and being patient. The woman," he said. "She didn't want to kill us."

"Ethan, that doesn't mean they won't try. They lie. They'll use any trick to get what they want, and they probably just need a better time and place. Never underestimate that."

Lucas turned to them, his eyebrows drawing an angry slash on his forehead. "The human girl heard and saw it all." 

"She didn't understand anything," his sister hurried to add. "Just that we're incredibly fucked up and weird. I'm going to stay away from her, I promise."