I nod, lips pressing together as I take a step back. “Thank you for your help. I appreciate it.”
“We both do,” Jeffrey says, squeezing my fingers.
We turn to go and have nearly reached the edge of the flickering ring of light surrounding the fire pit when a siren cuts through the air. Not long after, a small SUV with an orange strobe spinning on its roof appears at the top of the rise, headed this way.
All around us, the Roma people go still, with a spark of anxiety I can taste, sharp on my tongue. Then, mothers start quietly herding children into tents, while the men in the camp shift to face the coming threat. For centuries, Roma camps have been the first stop for law enforcement when anything goes wrong nearby, no matter if there’s cause to suspect a Romani man or women for the crime, or not.
And sometimes it is a Roma person involved. But when society has shoved you to the fringes for thousands of years, exterminated your people, forcibly sterilized your women, denied you access to health care and social programs, and segregated your families into slums and your children into sub-standard schools, all while refusing to consider your people for well-paying jobs, or in some cases, any sort of employment, I can see how theft might seem like the only option.
If the majority refuses to treat your life with the same dignity as theirs, if they insist on seeing you as filthy, violent criminals no matter what you do, you might as well make sure you have something to show for it, right?
I can see it so clearly now that I’ve stopped to think, but why have I never before imagined what their lives must be like?
It must have been terrifying for Kaula to take me back to my family, risking me telling the authorities what she’d done, no matter how many times I’d promised I wouldn’t tell the police.
In the end, I hadn’t told because I was afraid it would bring her back like a boogeyman summoned from under the bed when you say his name. But I should have kept my mouth shut for her, this woman who had so much to lose by trying to reassure a cursed child.
Maybe she wasn’t thinking clearly then, and she’s obviously not in her right mind now, but I believe her heart was in the right place.
And I believe that Rafe and I can still make things right. I’ll find him. Call him. Convince him to talk to me.
And then…
Well, hopefully the destiny river will take care of the rest. Hopefully, this is the kind of thing I can’t screw up.
“We should stay, see what’s going on,” Jeffrey murmurs.
I step closer to his side, wrapping my arms around him and resting my cheek on his chest, a new worry niggling at the back of my thoughts.
What if this police vehicle has something to do with Nick and the bad people he’s supposedly caught up with? I don’t believe Jeffrey’s involved for a second, but the authorities might not be so easily persuaded.
I hold my breath, crossing my fingers that this has nothing to do with either of us and that I won’t need to figure out how to hire a lawyer in the middle of nowhere with no cell service.
Thankfully, I don’t have long to wait for answers.
The SUV skids to a stop in the parking area beside the collection of Roma pickup trucks and older minivans, and a slim figure spills out the passenger’s side. A beat later, a young woman in a ranger uniform, her hair in braids, runs into the camp, her presence instantly breaking the tension.
One of the men moves forward to greet her, but she shakes her head and lifts her hands, calling out, “Sorry to interrupt, everyone, but there’s been an accident. A tree fell on a couple on their way out of the park earlier tonight. The husband was seriously hurt. They’re at the urgent care in Devi, but the doctors don’t have the right kind of blood for a transfusion, and he’s running out of time.” She takes a breath, scanning the crowd.
I’m already moving out of Jeffrey’s arms, somehow knowing what she’s going to say.
“If there’s anyone here with a B negative blood type who would be willing to come with me and make a donation, you just might save a life.”
“I have to go,” I murmur to Jeffrey before lifting my arm and calling, “I am. I’ll come right now.”
“I’ll follow in the car,” Jeffrey says, squeezing my shoulder. “I’ll be there waiting when you’re done.”
With a rush of gratitude, I push up on tiptoe, pressing a quick kiss to his cheek and whispering, “I love you,” against his stubble.
Because I don’t want to wait anymore, and I don’t want to risk him not knowing.