Chapter 9 - At the edge of a cliff, Arlo

Monday rolls in lazily, like a monster opening its jaws and basking in the sun.

The weather had calmed.

For the most part the children are easily aroused, Ruby and Jasper the only outliers. It takes longer than expected to bundle them in coats, hats, and scarfs; they are often so well - mannered and put - together, that Emilia had expected them to be up and about well before her. As it turns out, Arlo is a monster cuddler and won't let go of the huge teddy bear she swear Nicolas brought for Ruby; Seth has more than ten alarms that are promptly switched off the second they start to ring; Jasper does get up but considering he is half asleep still, it's no surprise when he hits the door and falls down (what is surprising is the fact that he curls up and goes back to sleep right there on the floor); Ruby begs for 5 more minutes, Emilia finds her in the wardrobe after those 5 minutes where she's hid with her blanket. Only Victoria wakes up with no problem.

She has them holding a lunch bag by the end of the affair; the teenagers did not like it one bit, only giving in when presented with the stylish simple bags.

For the rest of the day, Emilia retreats to her sanctuary, coming out when her stomach gurgles. She hums a long-forgotten song under her breath, breezing around the kitchen.

"Seth, darling, what should we make for lunch today?"

No one answers her.

Emilia feels the panic bubble. Her hands shake, dropping the pan. She screams for them, yet no one responds.

She only remembers where they are after an hour of frantic searching.

They are at school.

Emilia does not eat after that.

The children pile in the car when she goes to pick them up. A song plays on the radio on the way back. Emilia taps along on the steering wheel.

"How was your day?"

"There were so many children, and so many toys and new things, also, also, I made lots of friends. And they have a cafeteria that serves yucky food, but we didn't have to eat it because we had the yummy lunch!"

Emilia chuckles.

"What about you Vicky?"

"Well, I suppose the girls in my class are a bit nice, they have lots of tips."

Typical Victoria, for that she was 12, she loved fashion more than anything.

"I met a nice girl today, she was very...bright."

"It was a new experience for all of us." Seth adds, with a shallow smile, the kind teenagers always have when it came to school.

"Oh, were you home-schooled?"

"Yes, dad had private tutors for us."

"Arlo?"

It was not unusual for Arlo to not participate verbally, but he often made noises agreeing or not with the topic. Today, he did nothing, staring at the window blankly.

"Oh, I'm sure Arlo is disappointed with the science department, he quite enjoys it."

"That's unfortunate, I can arrange for him to be transferred to my alma matter, it's a great school for nerds."

Arlo reacts this time, sitting up rigidly.

"No."

"Mm, let me know if you change your mind."

She peeks at the backseat in the rear-view mirror - Seth is elbowing Arlo, frowning.

It's not her business, she tells herself.

The following week passes in a similar fashion, and they all settle in the new routine. However, something niggles at the back of her mind. The children are quieter and quieter the closer they get to the end of the week. It's normal for their excitement to have passed. Yet, she can see in the shadows getting deeper around Seth's eyes, the hunched back of Victoria, the little flinches from Jasper, the dullness in Ruby's eyes, and Arlo progressively shutting into himself, that there is something very foul at work.

She asks them in many ways about it; some are subtle enquires, others are bold straight forward questions. The children avoid the topic.

She really must end this farce.

Thursday, she gets a clear sign that something is wrong.

Emilia waits to pick the children up as usual. When they come, they are huddled around Arlo, who's face is angled downward.

It catches her attention.

"How was your day - "

Emilia freezes.

On Arlo's high cheekbone, a terrible bruise stretches from the eye to the jaw. Emilia gasps. She turns around, nearly climbing over the other children, to get to him. The white of his hair makes the garish thing stand out like a lamp in an abys. Emilia cradles his face, holding his chin carefully.

"Who did this?"

The children avert their eyes.

"You either tell me now, so that when I storm in there, I know exactly who I need to shred, or I will go in there and rain hell on every single one of them."

A long stretch of silence ticks away, the cheerful radio song gaudy compared to the seriousness in the air.

Arlo sighs, shoulders dropping.

"It was a boy in my English class. He was bullying someone, and the teacher just let him get away with it, I c-couldn't just watch...and..."

"I know, baby, I know."

Emilia is careful of the bruise when she tugs him close.

She pulls out her phone.

"Nick, I need your help with something urgently. I'll send my coordinates."

Emilia makes to get out, but Arlo tugs on her sleeve. He looks young in that second, vulnerable. She remembers then, he is only a 15-year-old boy.

"Can we come with you?"

"Of course, sweetheart."

She cannot end this farce.