Page 50 of Circle of Death
She hates that she needs to be here. She hates that she’s the one who has to do this. But there’s nobody else.
Maddy knocks. After a few seconds, she hears shuffling from inside. The door opens partway. A woman’s face appears in the gap. Her black hair is fringed with white. Her jowls sag. Her eyes are rheumy and red. Her breath carries a stale waft of liquor.
“What the hell do you want?” she asks, hands clawed around the edge of the door.
Maddy inhales and lets it out slowly. “Are you Mrs. Keane? Deva’s mom?”
“Why?” Suspicious. Noncommittal.
“My name is Maddy. Maddy Gomes. I’m a friend of hers from school.”
The woman opens the door wider and leans against the frame, arms folded across her chest. “Great. Then maybe you can tell me where the hell my daughter is. She hasn’t been home in two nights.” The woman fingers the collar of her housecoat and waves one hand dismissively. “Not the first time. Probably passed out at some damn club. I keep telling her that if…”
“Mrs. Keane,” Maddy interrupts. “I’m sorry to stop you. Deva isn’t at a club. I hate to have to say this, but—Deva’s dead. She was killed. Murdered. At the World’s Fair.”
The woman freezes for a second, then slumps against the door. Maddy reaches out and grabs her. Maddy wraps her arm around the woman’s shoulders and leads her through the gloomy foyer. The small living room is littered with dirty plates and empty bottles. Maddy helps the trembling woman to a worn sofa and eases her down.
“Who would kill Deva?” the woman asks, her voice shaking, her chin lowered toward her chest.“Why?”
“I don’t know yet,” says Maddy. “But I’ll find out, I promise you.”
The woman lifts her head slowly and jabs a finger toward Maddy’s face. “Wait. I know who you are,” she says. “You’re the magic girl. The one with the superpowers. The girl from Times Square. Fire and lightning. Deva talked about you.”
Maddy manages a tight smile. “Deva knew me pretty well. Maybe better than I know myself.”
The woman’s brittle voice turns bitter. “So you saved the whole city, but you couldn’t save my girl?”
This hits Maddy like a punch. “I’m so sorry, Mrs. Keane. I’m sorry I wasn’t with her when she… I loved Deva. I really did.”
“She called you her personal hero,” the woman mutters. Then she shakes her head. “Some goddamn hero.”
Maddy pretends to ignore the insult, but it cuts deep. “Is there a neighbor I can get for you? A relative?”
“No. Nobody. It was just me and Deva. Leave me alone.”
“Should I stay with you? Can I get you anything?” Maddy looks at the empty bottles. “Do you have enough food?”
The woman appears to gather all her strength and then projects it in a single word.“Go!”
Maddy stands up slowly and walks toward the front door. She pauses at the threshold. “I’m sorry, Mrs. Keane,” she says again. “Very sorry.”
No response. Deva’s mom is tipped on her side, her face buried in the arm of the battered sofa. Weeping.
CHAPTER 61
WHEN MADDY STEPS back onto the porch, the three shirtless boys are standing at the edge of the yard, tossing a battered football back and forth, heaving it hard into one another’s chests with painful-sounding thuds.
Maddy takes one last glance back at the house and then heads down the path toward the sidewalk. When she turns back, the boys have moved into the yard, blocking her way. One holds the ball under his arm.
“Not as hot as her friend,” sneers the kid in front.
“You like to dance, too?” asks the one with the ball.
Maddy just keeps walking, eyes straight, ready to push right past them.
“You wanna dance right now?” the third boy asks. Leering. Ominous. As Maddy walks by, the boy grabs her arm.
Maddy flinches. Then disappears.
