“What?” I asked, opening my eyes, settling back against the mattress. “What about your mother?”
Fleur withdrew her hand from mine. “She says if Laurence needs to be in the Klan to keep himself looking like an upright young man, then that’s simply where he needs to be. Deputy Fortaine isn’t going to help our family in the slightest, because he’s against both the Klan and bootleggers. He aims to clean up Elston of both problems, but Laurence needs to keep bootlegging in secret so we can keep putting food on the table.”
“You’re going to stay living in a Klan house, Fleur?”
She kept her face tilted away from mine.
“Mama and Uncle Clyde talked about moving me out of this state,” I said, “to somewhere with kinder laws.” I cupped my fingers around the slim bones of her wrist. “You should come with us.”
“Mama would hate that.” She squirmed. “Laurence, too.”
“I don’t care. I want to know you’ll be all right. I don’t want to think of you getting married off to someone like Robbie Witten. I want you with me.”
She brushed at her eyes with the back of her hand. “How did you get out of that burned-up patrol car, Hanalee? How did you make it back home?”
I swallowed and remembered the warmth of my cheek nuzzled against the wool of Daddy’s shoulder. “I had that lucky sprig of alfalfa you gave me, tucked inside one of my boots.”
She lowered her hand to her lap. “Tell me really. What happened?”
“Well . . .” I licked my lips. “My father . . . my biological father, Hank Denney . . . he . . .” I cleared my throat. “He carried me home.”
Fleur met my eyes again and didn’t say a word.
“If I made it home last night,” I said, “then I suppose that means he finally made it home, too.” My head drifted to my right. My eyelids sank halfway shut. “And now . . . perhaps . . . he can rest in peace. That poor spirit can finally rest.”
“Are you certain? It was truly him?”
“I was there, in the backseat of the sheriff’s burning car, and then Daddy pulled me out of the wreckage and carried me home.” My breathing eased into the steady pattern of sleep, even though I remained half awake. “Where are my parents?”
“Talking with the reverend again, downstairs. They told me I could sit with you while you slept.”
“As soon as you hear we’re moving,” I said, although my tongue seemed to swell into a slab of cement, “pack your bags.”
“I can’t run off with your family.”
“Don’t think of it as running off with my family.” I lifted my eyelids far enough to see the concerned blue of her irises. “Think of it as running off to be with me, in a land like the ones we created as children.”
“There’s no such place, Hanalee.”
“We’ll make the place ourselves,” I said, and I allowed myself to drift back into sleep.
I AWOKE AGAIN SOMETIME LATER AND FOUND THREE vases of flowers sitting on my red desk. The sharp sweetness of petals and pollen flooded my nose, and I squinted in confusion at the baffling array of roses, carnations, lilies, and hydrangeas.
Instead of Fleur, a fuzzy golden teddy bear now sat beside me on the bed, and both Mama and Uncle Clyde stood over me, one parent on each side of my legs. Uncle Clyde sneezed, no doubt because of the pollen.
Mama moved the teddy bear aside and perched herself on the right edge of the mattress.
“How are you feeling, darling?” she asked.
I breathed through a sudden spike of pain. “I hurt.”
“I know.” She blinked several times in a row and covered the back of my right hand with one of her palms. “I’m sure you do, but I’m just so grateful you’re alive.”
“The morphine’s wearing off by now, I assume.” Uncle Clyde cupped a hand around my forehead, as though to check for a fever. “I’ll give you another dose soon.”
“What happened, Hanalee?” asked Mama. “How did you and Joe end up out at the Dry Dock? Why weren’t you in your room?”
I sucked in a deep breath and told them the entire story—Joe hiding in our stable with a broken nose, the Klansmen throwing open the door with a crash I could still hear inside my head, the nooses, the gun, the handcuffs, Daddy’s ghost standing in the middle of the road, spooking Sheriff Rink. I didn’t know if they believed me, but I told them everything, and they nodded and said, “I see.”
I peered across my room at the summer blooms. “Why are there flowers in my room?” I lifted the little bear. “And this teddy bear?”
“The bear is from the Adders.” Mama tucked the stuffed animal by my side. “The reverend brought that over when he visited earlier this afternoon. The flowers are from friends who heard how badly you got hurt.”