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If the plane went down in the middle of the ocean Sarah wouldn’t have to go to Canada, where people talk strange and there’s moose everywhere. If the plane crashed right now she would still be pretty close to England, which meant she would die and still be in England, which would be fine. Or better, at least, than S dragging Sarah and Felix to Canada.
If the plane fell apart right now, metal pieces flying off, metal wings failing, would God protect Helena? Has she been good enough? She is twenty-eight and she has killed thirty-eight copies, more than one per year, so surely He would lift her up to Heaven. But her work isn’t done, so maybe He wouldn’t. She doesn’t want to die here, in the middle of the sea. She doesn’t want to die at all.
She keeps kicking the back of the chair in front of her, so that S will glare at her. You’re twelve now and you should know better, S hisses – all the time, really. She never stops saying it. Like it’s a magic trick that’ll work. Like if S says it enough times Sarah will stop and come to her senses and finally realize that, all along, she was the daughter S wanted this whole time. She’ll wash her hair and let it fall in pretty curls. She’ll wear dresses. S will love her; the thought makes her nauseous, she hates it. She looks out the window. She kicks the chair in front of her again.
She is sitting as still as possible, because Tomas has the seat next to her. With Maggie, Helena could get away with shifting in her seat – but Maggie already crossed the ocean, to go see Detective Beth Childs. It’s just Helena and Tomas. Tomas is rereading his holy book and Helena has nothing but her thoughts. She’s trying to be good and hold still and look out the window and not move even one little bit, but it’s hard. If Tomas asked she would tell him the truth: that she is trying so hard to be good.
There’s nothing outside the window but ocean.
There’s nothing outside the window but ocean.
This plane ride is so long.
It feels like they’ve been on a plane forever.
It would be easier if there was someone Sarah’s age here. Felix is okay, but he’s a kid and he’s excited by the tiny foil packets of peanuts and the fact that they can watch movies with the shitty headphones tucked into the seatback pocket of each chair. If there was another girl here Sarah could roll her eyes at her, say this is stupid, say I hate it here and I want to go home and she’d get it, the other girl. She’d understand that homesickness is an anxious drum in Sarah’s chest and that the most important thing is S can never know.
When Tomas isn’t looking Helena blows on the window, draws two stick figures in the glass. Everything would be better if Helena had a friend here – she dreams about that friend all the time and she knows her friend would have a good time on a plane. If Helena had a friend here, in the seat next to her, they could have both eaten the peanuts that were handed out in shiny tin bags. If Helena had a friend here, she could say I’m scared. Really say it, out loud. Say I’m scared and sometimes I want to run away and I don’t actually like killing them, but I can’t say it out loud or God and Tomas will be mad. Her friend would understand – but her friend has already faded from the window, so Helena’s alone again.
Sarah sneaks a glance at the seat next to her.
Tomas is paging through his Bible, face intent and closed-off.
She looks away again. Imagine if the plane crashed into the ocean. Imagine if Sarah saved everyone, and she was a hero, and S said you’re amazing Sarah I should have known you always were. Imagine if when they were at the airport, and the news cameras were flashing, a woman ran up to the front of the crowd and said I’d know that face anywhere, I’m your birth mother Sarah and I’ve been looking for you for twelve years. Imagine if—
She slides down in her seat a little and holds her own hand, palms familiar – rough – warm.
—imagine if Sarah’s whole family was there, and they hugged her, and it felt real. And then they said we can go back to London now and they all got on a plane and turned around. It would be worth it. Sarah wouldn’t want that plane to crash; she’d watch whatever shitty movie was playing on the television. Her real family would be there, and she wouldn’t be alone.
She wishes she wasn’t alone.
S is here, and Felix is here, but really she’s alone. She turns her head and looks out the window again.
Outside, the sky and sea are both the very same shade of blue.