The Fire and the Veil (Veronica Barry Book 2) (18 page)

Veronica could feel Lola’s white hot rage. Her pure hatred of the man. She would kill him with her bare hands if she could. She wanted to tear out his eyes with her fingernails.

Shelby disappeared, and Veronica could see Terri, Lola’s mother, now. She was a tired-looking, heavy woman with tan, matte skin and black hair up in a high bun on her head.

“You have to listen to your father, Lola,” she said.

“Fuck you,” Lola said in a low, shaky voice. “He’s not my fucking father.”

Terri looked up at the ceiling and shook her head. “Yeah, he’s better than your father. We wouldn’t be in this house if your father was still around. He’d have snorted or smoked all the rent money three months ago and we’d be living in a car if we were lucky. You remember those days, don’t you, honey?”

“Shut up,” Lola said in that same low voice. “Like things are so fucking good now. Like things are just swell.” She laughed bitterly. “You’re so fucking clueless.”

Veronica could feel Lola shaking. She could feel something bubbling inside her chest—it might be sobs, or it might be laughter, she wasn’t sure. She didn’t think Lola knew, either.

“Don’t you talk to me like that—”

Owen sneered at Terri, who shut up. He turned to Lola.

“You are a guest in this house, you little slut,” he said in a tight voice. “You will abide by my rules or I will put you out on the street—”

“Fine!” Lola shouted so loud it made her throat spasm with pain. She clutched it with one hand. She turned and started grabbing clothes and putting them in a pile. Then she went under the bed and brought out her backpack—the same one she brought to school and dropped so loudly by her table when she sat down in Veronica’s class. She opened it and began emptying it.

“Oh, so now you’re wunning away fwom us?” Owen mocked.

Lola’s mouth twisted sourly. She shook her head and began stuffing clothes into the bag. “You want me out,” Lola whispered. “Fine by me.”

Out of the corner of her eye Veronica caught sight of Owen tossing up his hands and leaving Lola’s room. She couldn’t tell whether Terri stayed or left as well.

Lola violently zipped up her backpack and exited her room. Terri stood in the hall, shifting from one foot to the other. Lola ignored her and walked down the hall, away from the stairs.

“Where are you going?” Terri whined.

Lola stopped outside a closed door. She turned and gave Terri a hot glare. “I’m not leaving Lei here,” Lola said.

Terri’s eyes widened. “Have you lost your mind?” she asked.

Lola snorted and turned to the door, opening it. She felt, rather than saw Owen reappear on the stairs. She stopped and closed the door again without entering the room. Her hands were trembling.

“Get the fuck out,” Owen said. “Do it now, and maybe I’ll let you go nicely. But you try any bullshit like that again and I’ll fucking throw you out myself.”

Lola’s throat burned, and not just from the blow she’d received. She hesitated by her sister’s door. Then she started to take the backpack off her shoulder.

“Oh hell no!” Owen shouted. “It is too fucking late for second thoughts, whore! I want you out! You’re out!” He began trudging up the rest of the stairs.

“Fine!” Lola said, shouldering the bag again. But that was not enough for Owen. He pushed roughly past Terri, who stumbled against the wall. He lunged at Lola, and caught hold of her upper arm. She tried to jerk away, and he wrenched her arm so hard she thought for a moment he’d dislocated it. Lola gritted her teeth against the pain. Owen half dragged, half carried her to the edge of the stairs, and then he thrust her forward, almost to the point where she would overbalance and fall.

“Get the fuck out now!” he shouted into her ear, releasing her.

Lola grabbed the banister, stumbling down the first three steps. Then she got her footing again, and she hurried the rest of the way down. When she reached the bottom, she ran for the door. She turned the knob, swung it open, and plunged into the cool outdoor air, slamming it as hard as she could behind her.

~~~

It was the second Lola dream that had ended in violence and her slamming a door, Veronica thought in a sort of detached horror. She lay in her bed, feeling cold and shaken.

“I get it,” she muttered. “Lola’s life really sucks. What I don’t get, though, is what you guys want me to do about it.”

If anyone told Veronica about the scene she had just witnessed, Veronica would report it to Child Protective Services. As a teacher, she was a mandated reporter, but more than that, she wanted to report any case of child abuse she heard about. And what she’d just witnessed was child abuse. But now she didn’t know what to do. Should she lie and say she heard about what had happened somehow?

This was the trouble with information she gained in dreams. She knew that it was real, but there was always a slight doubt. She had so little experience with all of it. Of course, she’d had prophetic dreams all of her life, but she couldn’t always trust them to be completely accurate. Sometimes some of the details were different when the future came to pass. And in any case, from what she could tell, she wasn’t dreaming Lola’s future. She was dreaming her present, as she had when she dreamed Sylvia Gomez’s murder. The things she saw were unfolding at the moment that she saw them, she suspected. So did that mean that they were perfectly accurate?

What if some things turned out to be different in reality? Like names. What if she went and called CPS and made a report, only to discover that Lola’s parents were named Stacy and Steve, not Terri and Owen?

Well, that was easy enough to solve. Veronica could look Lola up in the computer in her classroom. Lola’s parents’ names would be there, as would her address and anything else CPS needed in the report.

Okay, thought Veronica. I’ll check the computer. If the names match, I’ll call CPS. I’ll say I heard some students talking about Lola, and what happened at her house. Then it will just be up to CPS to investigate.

With that settled, Veronica relaxed. But sleep eluded her, chased off by the awful images that replayed themselves in her mind.

~~~

Veronica did not expect to see Lola the next day. She wondered where Lola had gone after leaving her step-father’s home. Had she made it to a friend’s? Or had she found some secret alley and slept in the cold?

Veronica was shocked, therefore, when ten minutes into French II, Lola burst through the classroom door with her usual energy. Veronica had just gotten the class started on rehearsing the dialogues they had written the time before. She was organizing things, creating a seating chart and a sub plan, and she expected the next person through the door to be her sub. But instead, it was Lola.

Veronica watched her stride through the classroom to Angie’s table. Lola dropped her backpack, just like always, and slumped into her chair. It made Veronica wonder how often she’d come to school after some horrible scene like the one that had taken place last night. She certainly seemed to be going about business as usual.

Veronica had yet to call CPS. Now she began to wonder if she should. Maybe nothing had happened last night, after all. Maybe these Lola dreams really were just nightmares, and nothing more. Surely, if Lola had been kicked out as Veronica had seen, she would not be sitting in class now, looking around sullenly.

Maybe it would be best to try to investigate a little herself, before calling CPS in to do it.

Veronica made her way over to Lola’s side. Lola glanced up at her, but she had earphones in her ears. She began tapping the table in rhythm to the music, gazing at Veronica defiantly. Electronics were supposed to be off and out of sight—it was a school-wide policy. So Lola was spoiling for a fight. Veronica decided to try to avoid giving her one.

Lola looked away, so Veronica touched her arm to get her attention, but instead of engaging her in a conversation, Veronica’s sight shifted into a vision.

There was a little girl—Leinani?—on a pink bicycle, peddling hard down the street of a neighborhood of small, low houses and lots of trees. Behind her a larger boy with pale blond hair on a skateboard was catching up. The little girl looked around. Her face was pale and her eyes were wide, and she was breathing hard. And Veronica recognized her: not Leinani, but little Lola. Maybe fourth grade Lola.

The girl tried to peddle harder, but still the boy gained, and the girl looked around again. This time, it
was
Leinani.

Veronica stepped away and the vision ceased. She was standing in her classroom again, and Lola was glaring at her. Veronica sucked on her teeth, uncertain about what to do, or how to interpret what she had just seen. On any other day she might have asked Lola to stick around a few minutes into lunch, so she could talk to her privately. She would have tried to ask some questions, to see if she could figure out what was going on. But today she was leaving early. Khalilah would be picking her up in fifteen minutes.

A student raised his hand, so Veronica went over to help him. Then she went back to her desk and hurriedly printed out an info sheet on Lola and stuffed it in her bag. Just as she did, the classroom door opened and the substitute, a gray-haired man in a sweater and jeans, entered.

Veronica greeted him, all the while trying to decide what to do. She didn’t want to leave without talking to Lola, but she also didn’t want to do it in front of the class, and she was sure that Lola would make a scene if she tried to get her to step out into the hall or something.

Finally she finished giving the sub his instructions and introducing him to the class, and she bit her lip, looking at the clock. Khalilah would be in the parking lot in less than five minutes.

Veronica walked over to Lola and Angie’s table again. Angie was turned away, working with the other couple at the neighboring table that Veronica had assigned her to after Lola stormed out last time. Veronica crouched so that she was lower than Lola, and could look up into her face and speak softly, without the other students hearing, she hoped.

Lola glowered at her. Veronica gestured to her ears, motioning for Lola to remove the earphones. Lola rolled her eyes, but to Veronica’s relief, she took them out.

Veronica pondered how to approach this. She could try out the lie about hearing students talking about Lola’s family situation, but that might bring unwanted consequences, if Lola decided to punish whoever she assumed had talked about her. Veronica decided not to lie. She would try to avoid saying too much about her ability, and focus on her concern for Lola.

“Hey,” she said softly. “How are you doing?”

Lola cracked a bitter half-grin. “Me? I’m dandy.”

Veronica nodded. “How are things at home?”

Lola shifted in her seat, glancing around. “Fine.”

Veronica frowned. “Really? Because I thought maybe you got kicked out last night.”

Lola paled and glanced around again. Veronica looked around, too. No one seemed to be paying any attention to them. The sub was talking, and some kids were listening to him, but most were talking to each other.

“Where’d you hear that?” Lola asked in a low voice.

“Is it true?”

Lola’s chin jutted out and she crossed her arms over her chest, slumping down further into her chair.

“Did your step-father hurt you, Lola?”

Lola found a spot on the floor to stare at.

Veronica took this show of attitude to be confirmation that her dream had been accurate, after all. Lola was a tough girl, and she could pull off getting kicked out and still make it to school the next day. After all, they had food here. If Lola was on the street, it would be in her interest to come to school. She could be warm, sitting in the classrooms, and she could eat lunch, particularly since she qualified for a free one, Veronica recalled from reading her file.

Veronica only had one more thing to ask.

“Who was the boy, Lola? The one chasing you on the bike?”

Lola’s eyes shot towards her, and she pushed her chair away with a screech. “What the fuck,” she whispered.

Veronica held the edge of the table with one hand for balance, but the other hand she held up, palm out, as a gesture of peace. “It’s okay, just tell me,” she said. “Did he hurt you? Is he going to hurt Leinani?”

Lola’s jaw dropped, and she stood up, knocking over the chair. Now everyone was staring. Lola looked around the class, eyes wide. She stumbled and grabbed her bag, then ran for the door.

“Lola!” Veronica called. “Wait!”

Lola exited, and Veronica chased after her, catching the door as it swung.

“Wait! I can explain how I know!”

Lola stopped in the middle of the hall. Her back was tense. She turned slowly and looked at Veronica.

Veronica took a step towards her, but she could see the stress in Lola’s legs. She was going to bolt again. “Lola, it’s okay. It’s just something I can do. I can see things, sometimes. You were thinking about him, right? You were thinking about him chasing you, and then you were thinking about him chasing Leinani.”

Lola shook her head, and then she turned and tore off down the hall again.

Veronica sighed. So much for the direct approach. How was she supposed to use this gift if it meant lying all the time? Lying was too tricky. But apparently telling the truth wasn’t necessarily the answer, either.

She pulled her phone out of her pocket and checked the time. 11:02. Khalilah was either already waiting or about to arrive. Veronica called her.

“Hey,” Khalilah answered. “You ready?”

“I’ll be out there in five minutes,” Veronica said.

“Okay.”

Veronica went back into her classroom, grabbed her purse, and waved to the students as she left. Then she jogged as quickly as she dared, under the watchful eyes of the supers, to the main office and the cumulative file closet.

She let herself in and yanked the drawer with Lola’s file. She pulled the file out and laid it open as fast as she could without sending papers flying everywhere. She flipped through. There it was, a list of family members, dated last year. Mother: Terri Carver, Step-father: Owen Carver, sister: Leinani Hekili, step-brother: Paul Carver.