Merritts of Writing 3

Chapter 21

Jam

I remember my mother, just before she died, asking me to open my heart to forgiveness. I never understood who I was supposed to forgive. What the Larcore had done was unforgivable. She especially knew that.

Had she been referring to something I would have to face in the future? Had Carter done something to my sister that he needed forgiveness for?

I certainly hoped not.

A CONCERNED MOMENT LATER

“Do you know what’s going on?” I asked Angie.

I, like most of the camp, had heard the rancour in our sister’s harsh words.

Angie shook her head.

“You know,” I said, “while we were in the back of the truck, she warned me never to trust Carter.”

Angie’s eyes widened.

Stevron shifted his weight. He was kneeling at my side.

I wet my lips and continued. “She even went so far as to say that we should have shot him on sight. Put a bullet in him three years ago. She also said that Bartholomew Shipley doesn’t deserve to live.”

Angie gasped. “What?”

“That’s not good,” Stevron said.

I looked from Angie to Stevron, then I nodded. “Those were her exact words.”

“Did she elaborate?”

Regretfully I shook my head.

“Something’s going on,” Angie said.

I took a breath. “Yeah, I know. I just don’t have a clue what.”

Angie gave me a strange look. She glanced at Stevron.

I know I should have inquired. Ask her what was going on in her head, but I didn’t have the strength to pursue my own worrying thoughts. I ached terribly and for the first time I had a sense that I wasn’t going to recover. At least not any time soon that is.

I glanced at the intravenous tube carrying Stevron’s blood. The icy, prickly, sensation of our blood mingling didn’t reassure me. I swallowed and met Stevron’s eyes. They were deeply troubled.

“I’m sorry, Jam”, he said. I can’t tell you what happened between Em and Carter, but the rift is serious.”