Aftermath by Clara Kensie

Author:Clara Kensie
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: F+W Media
Published: 2016-11-01T04:00:00+00:00

Chapter Twenty-Five

Dad says he likes to have the foundation’s press conferences outside on the patio, using Marissa’s flower garden as a backdrop. But it’s the middle of December, and it’s snowing, so today we’re doing it inside, in the foundation’s office. Bouncing the messy blond curls on her head and bouncing CiGi on her hip, Marissa directs a crew to set up lights and microphones. She acts like she’s done this a million times before. She probably has: she’s in charge of publicity and PR, after all.

Mom, Alexa, and I watch from the corner. Mom shifts uncomfortably, smoothing her skirt over and over again. Alexa leans on a desk, dressed in her usual all-black, tight clothes and texting someone on her phone. Dad, in a gray suit and pink tie, sets up the microphones on the long table where we’ll sit as we answer questions from the reporters. Even though he’s assured me that he will do most of the talking and I’ll only have to give a short statement, Dad wants all of us to be part of the press conference. Mom, Alexa, even Marissa and CiGi. The whole family. Neither Mom nor Alexa want to do it, but I begged them to come. I need them here, at my side.

The table is set in front of the wall stenciled with FOUND! and papered with photos of all the kids who are no longer missing. My photo is still in the center. I’m happy to see the photo of the little boy from Texas underneath mine. “Hey, Dad?” I ask. “Can we move the table to the other side? To the NEVER LOSE HOPE wall?”

Dad adjusts his tie as he shakes his head. “We’d have to move the computers and file cabinets to make room for the table.”

“But the photos of the missing kids should be on camera,” I say. “Not the ones who’ve already been found.”

Dad gives me that look again, that look of amazement. He’s so proud of me. He thinks I’m the Ambassador of Hope. He gives a little whistle to the crew and uses his finger to make a circle in the air. “Okay, guys, let’s switch things around.”

Marissa nods her approval, then looks me up and down. “Charlotte, come with me. I need to get you ready.”

Oh, no. Dad is busy, and Alexa is texting. I have to go with Marissa alone.

I follow her from the office. CiGi is still on her hip. I expect her to take me to the family room to rehearse my statement, but she takes me upstairs to the bedroom I share with Alexa. “Let’s find you something to wear.” With one hand, she rifles through the closet. The baby reaches for me like she wants me to hold her, but I back away. She smells like talcum powder and it’s suffocating. Her sticky hands make me queasy.

“What’s wrong with what I have on now?” I’m wearing my mom’s black skirt, her white ironed button-down shirt, and her black pumps.

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