Page 57 of The Girl from Widow Hills
Ten years earlier, everything had boiled over with an incident in the gym locker room.
Their voices still echoed a decade later.
Living off other people’s hard-earned money—
My parents said they donated, probably paid for your house—
A group of girls scattered around me. One in particular standing between me and the exit of the gym locker room, the walls narrowing as the voices grew. Until I had to move. Had to get out.
The school counselor attributed the incident to PTSD, but it didn’t change the reaction. I was sent home for a week. I was just lucky it hadn’t made it on the news.
But it was a good story.Describe her in three words: angry, unpredictable, dangerous.
My mother stressed the need to stay offline, to keep random people on the Internet from contacting me on social media, and private messages, and lesser-known chat rooms. I had quickly learned never to search for my own name. But I still saw it, heard about it. Kids bartered information, discovered the power of it. At that age, it was what we had.
Ten years later, we hadn’t much changed. We all just had more access to the truth and the lies.
IN MY OFFICE BETWEENmeetings, I pulled up Elyse’s employment file. I hadn’t been involved in the hiring process, not since I’d taken on my full-time role.
But this was all information at my disposal. If she’d gone home, as Bennett suggested, I might find another contact number in her file—to put my mind at ease. To stop seeing the image of her staring out my window, frowning.
If my mother could see me now, I was sure she’d laugh. Call me, in an offhand way,the powers that be. That unseen, unnamed force that determined her fate each time she was removed from a position or reassigned. The powers that gave her shit hours, or denied her employment, or ignored her situation.The powers that bewere unwavering and unsympathetic.Robotic assholes, I think was her preferred term. And now here I was.
But I was nothing like she’d imagined us to be. I wanted to make a difference. Fix a broken system from the top down.
The small thumbnail photo with Elyse’s ID badge was up on the screen, grainy to the degree of blurry, along with her original application. Elyse Ferano was twenty-five and had three different places of employment before landing here, including a few months’ gap in between, noted as a medical leave. I remembered she’d mentioned a bad accident, and I wondered if she had follow-up issues. It had been the same for my arm.
But still. She had moved around a lot in the time allotted. I wondered who had hired her, how she’d gotten through the referral calls. She’d listed previous jobs from all over the state. Her most recent referral was from a rehab facility near the coast, at least four hours away. I couldn’t tell which place she might consider home.
On impulse, I called the most recent contact name.
“Henry Masters,” he answered on the first ring.
“Hi, my name is Olivia, and I’m calling in regard to a referral for a previous employee of yours.” I’d opted against giving away my information unless specifically asked.
“Hold on,” he said. Then, “Go ahead,” like he was pulling up the files on his own end, waiting for a name.
“A nurse by the name of Elyse Ferano.”
“We are not able to comment at this time,” he said without even a moment’s pause. Those were the types of lines we gave instead of putting a name on blast. There were repercussions for that, for saying the wrong thing and keeping someone from getting a job. What some called honesty, others called slander. So we stuck to the neutral comments, speaking in code, but we all knew what it meant.
“Oh, I’m surprised, I was under the impression that you referred her in the past?” Unless the hiring committee had failed to follow up, which was really unacceptable.
“Yes, sorry, we’re in the midst of an internal investigation, which has put all referrals on hold.”
So it may not have had anything to do with her at all. Except he’d asked me for her name first. He’d acted like he would answer. He’d made a mistake.
“Can you share the specifics?” I was grasping at straws here, and I knew it.
“I cannot, as it’s ongoing.” I could hear his chair squeaking in the background, like he was twisting his seat back and forth.
“What sort of investigation?”
A sigh. “A previous issue that’s just recently come to light during an inventory audit.”
Dammit, Elyse.“Thank you for your time,” I said, my voice sounding small even to me. I placed the phone gently in the cradle.
Bennett had mentioned things going missing from the medicine room. I thought back to when he’d caught me in there, laying in to me, borderline accusing me, before apologizing after for the overreaction. Someone had been taking things. He’d mentioned it casually; maybe he wasn’t sure. But he was keeping an eye out. Had he been suspicious of her?
