After he leaves, there’s two minutes of silence. Then Aimee stands and clears her throat and says, “I think we should—”
“Oh, wait,” Brienne says, rising. “Are you still here? Didn’t they drug you guys or something?” She looks from Aimee to Lorenzo. “I was sure you two must have been sedated, because otherwise you’d have taken charge. Calmed us down. Told us it would be okay. Got in Max’s face when he started mouthing off.”
“I told Max—” Aimee began.
“You said his name. That’s not exactly taking charge. Riley had to handle it. Then Aaron had to handle Gideon. You two just kept your mouths shut and hoped no one noticed you. I think there are some blankets in the corner. Should we grab a couple so you can hide under them?”
My hands begin to shake. I watch her telling them off, and all I can think about is that afternoon at the Porters’, how I did exactly that. I kept my mouth shut and prayed that the intruders wouldn’t notice me. I let them kill two people and did nothing, because it kept me alive.
Coward.
That’s what Brienne was calling Aimee and Lorenzo, for doing exactly what I’d done. No one says that to me. No one dares. But I want them to. I dream that someday I’ll meet Darla again and she’ll do exactly what Brienne is doing: call me out as a coward. It’s a nightmare, but it’s a fantasy too, and in the dream I break down in a puddle of regret and self-hate and relief. Thank God someone finally said the word. Thank God someone finally saw me for what I am.
Not a hero. A coward.
I clench my fists, trying to stop trembling. Then I glance up to see Max, right beside me, watching.
I turn away fast.
“Brienne,” I say, and my voice trembles too.
Luckily, Aaron takes over, saying, “That’s not helping, Brienne. If those two aren’t taking charge, screw them.” He turns to me. “So your dad really did stuff like this? Hostage negotiations?”
I nod.
“Can you walk us through it? What to expect?” He shoots a look at Max. “You can leave out the part about what happens if we mess up. I think we all get that.”
“Except you,” Gideon says to Aaron. “They won’t kill you.”
“They will if my dad doesn’t pony up.”
“Can we stop this?” It’s Sandy. She hasn’t said a word until now, and she looks like she’s about to throw up. “Can we stop bickering?”
“Riley?” Lorenzo says. “If you can walk us through it, that might calm some nerves. Tell us what to expect.”
“But you don’t have to,” Brienne adds quickly. “I know this must be harder on you than anyone else.”
“How do you know that?” Gideon says. “It might be easier for her. At least she’s been through something like this.”
“Which is why she’s here, jerk-off. Dealing with it. She watched people die. That doesn’t just go away. It’s called post-traumatic—”
“I’m okay,” I cut in. “I’ll explain for anyone who wants to listen. If you’d rather not, just move over there, and I’ll keep my voice down.”
No one leaves. I explain that there will be two main people out there: the commander and the negotiator. The commander is in charge of the SWAT team, leaving the negotiator to deal with our captors. The first thing Agent Salas will do is gather information. Some of that comes from X-Files and some from the officers on the team, trying to get a sense of the building and where we’re located inside it and so on.
With X-Files, we aren’t dealing with a mentally ill guy who randomly grabbed some kids. He knows what he is doing, so negotiations will proceed rationally, meaning there is little danger he’ll suddenly start shooting us for no reason. He’ll make his demands and Agent Salas will chip away at them while the team tries to figure out if there is a safe way to infiltrate the building.
I’m still talking when X-Files returns.
“All right, kiddies,” he says, in that smarmy, I’m-such-a-clever-boy way that grates on my nerves. “Remember how Miss Riley said we might let a few of you go, as an act of goodwill? Wrong. Well, okay, not entirely wrong. One of you lucky children gets to go home in time to enjoy your evening. Negotiator Will is playing nice, and so will we.”
Gideon jumps to his feet. “I have asthma.”
“And I’m sure you didn’t come to sleepover camp without your inhaler. Sit down, boy.” X-Files paces in front of us and stops at Max. “I’d really like to let you go, because you’re a pain in the ass. But if I do that, then all your therapy buddies here will give me grief, hoping it’ll buy their ticket out. You stay. However, you are on the top of list number two: kids I’ll shoot if Negotiator Will misbehaves.”
Max doesn’t seem the least perturbed. Hell, he doesn’t seem to have even heard. He is paying attention, though, watching X-Files, studying the man, frowning slightly, as if he needs to read lips and he’s not quite managing. It’s enough to make me wonder if he has a hearing problem. It might explain the lack of attention and the smart-ass comments to cover it up.
“Who’s the lucky one, then?” X-Files says.
There’s a moment of silence, and I want to say Sandy. She looks closest to breaking, and given that she just survived a suicide attempt, she really doesn’t need this. But before I can suggest her, Brienne says, “It should be Riley. Like I said, this is going to be harder on her than anyone, after what happened with … well, before.”