Ghostwriter

Chapter 6

I clutch Colton to my chest. He looks up at me with those big eyes of his, their color seems greener today. His curls, soft and damp, wash over my chin. I curl into him, letting my back rest against our bathroom door. I bathed us earlier. Bathing always relieves stress, even if I have to take Colton into the shower with me.

A towel, scratchy and pink with white bleach spots on it, wraps around my chest. Colton tugs at it with his hand, feeling the fabric between his fingers. I crack a broken smile and think a dirty joke, but it remains in my head. I'm too scared to speak.

Colton whines. I shush him, wiping my tears from his cheeks. "I'm sorry baby, I'm so sorry..." My voice is a gentle wind, nipping at his skin before fading away. It's barely there, more in my head than on my tongue.

I knew I shouldn't have done it. Someone would find me. Someone did find me. Someone did something with those computers—someone found me.

I hold Colton closer. Transfuse would be the only one looking. How could they have caught onto me so quickly? They must have some program or something than scans the internet for sites like mine and shuts them down, or finds the authors of the sites so it can shut them down. It makes sense.

Maybe, maybe since I've gotten barely any traffic, they won't track me down. Maybe they'll just demand that I delete the site or they'll delete it themselves. Maybe they won't hurt Colton.

Unlikely. I know too much.

I need to set up a plan for Colton, before he "disappears" along with me and his parents. Ok, ok. I lean my head against the doorframe and attempt to re-grasp my vocal chords with reason. Talking or not talking isn't going to change anything. Ok, ok.

Ok, ok. Deep breath. Ok, ok.

Colton whines again, and my voice returns to me. Croaking, I speak at a semi-normal volume and infuse as much confidence in my voice as I can (not much).

"We're going to be fine. I..." I need help. Someone safe that I can trust, someone that I know will take care of Colton if worst comes to worst. I'll watch for the signs, the red flags that I saw in Marigold's journals. If they come, I'll send Colton away, just like Mari did.

Mari might not have saved herself, she might have gotten us into this mess in the first place by joining the cult, but she might just be what gets us out of it.

I push us up, scraping my back against the door. I dress Colton in a onesie.

Who, though?

Momma J's in a nursery home. She can't even drive at this point, and though I love her, she's just not in good enough shape to raise a kid. Plus... we're not sure how long she's gonna live, but she's in her eighties. Papa J's already gone; a stroke took him from us. She might make it to Colton's high school years if we're lucky.

I shudder, in part because I picture Momma J in a casket and that's just flat out something I'm not nor ever will be ready for; and in part because thinking about baby Colton attending high school is something I'm not ready for either.

My birthmother seems like a good option to take care of Colton. Despite her and my birthfather's separation, she's toughed it out and found a man for herself. She's built her family on adoption. However, she's taking care of three kids already. She's raising babies of her own. She'd take Colton in if I asked, but... I'm not sure if I trust her with Colton, to be honest. I met her less than a year ago. She didn't raise me. She's more my somewhat-friend than my mother.

I don't know my birthfather, so not him. I want to find him, but with everything going on I haven't taken the steps to yet.

I set Colton down and make sure to keep an eye on him as I throw on my PJs. Ok, family's out of question then. That leaves friends.