Page 131 of Creeping Beautiful

He came that day. Just a voice. Just a voice on the phone.

I’m gonna count to ten now, Indie. And when I get to ten, you will be awake and you will not remember—

Fuck you, Donovan! Indie—

One.

Indie. What was the word? Tell us the fucking word!

Two.

I can’t tell you. He’ll know.

Three.

He’s not gonna know, Indie. I promise.

Four.

Stop counting, Donovan!

Five.

He called me to tell me happy birthday. And that it was going to be a wonderful day. That I would have all the love I could ever want if I just did as I was told.

Six.

What did he tell you to do?

Seven.

He said I needed to hand Maggie over to Nathan. And then—

Eight.

Donovan! Shut the fuck up!

—and then he would take over.

Nine.

Take over what? Indie? Take over what?

Me.

Ten.

CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR - ADAM

PRESENT DAY

She baked cupcakes.

I know that’s a stupid place to start with all the other things that happened that day. But I’ve thought about her twentieth birthday for four years, trying to force it to make sense, and it all goes back to the cupcakes.

Indie didn’t cook. She might’ve tried a few times when she was living with Nathan those few months before Maggie was born, and she did try to cook Thanksgiving once after Maggie was born, but she was no cook. McKay took her feeding seriously. He did almost all the cooking. And Indie was too busy playing in the swamp to take much notice of what he was doing or how he did it.

And as far as I could remember, never once did she bake.