Free Ruin Falls by Jenny Milchman

under my roof, if you eat under my roof, if you so much asmake water under my roof, then you are obliged to follow one rule. And that is that you do not mention the son who will never do any of those things here again for as long as I live!”
    The floorboards reverberated beneath the thud of his boots as Matthew stalked off.

CHAPTER THIRTEEN
    I t was as automatic as a homing pigeon’s flight. Liz went upstairs to the room that must’ve been Paul’s and plugged her cell phone in to charge. No way was she going to be without the use of it right now. The lit-up screen drew Liz’s finger, and she hit the button to speed-dial Jill without even having to look.
    When her best friend answered, Liz couldn’t speak. She sank down onto the floor, phone pressed to her ear. Perspiration pooled between her skin and the plastic backing.
    It took Jill only a second to enter the silence. “What’s going on? Where are you?”
    Still nothing from Liz. Her lips felt thick and numb, unworkable.
    “It’s something bad?” Jill said, an interpreter for the unseen.
    Always, since they had met as kindergarteners at Wedeskyull Consolidated, Liz and Jill had been able to communicate wordlessly. On that first day of school, it had been a shared fear of the bus, their entangled hands enabling them to climb the towering steps. After that, a flashed look, raised brow, or traded snort signaled anything from needed distraction when a teacher posed too challenging a question to a Get me out of here when last year’s discarded boyfriend came around again. But this went beyond words in a whole other way.
    As soon as Liz said what she had to say to Jill, it was going to become real.
    Her best friend’s voice was a soothing hum in the overheated room. “I’m not going to say something asinine like It’s all right . I’m here, if you can talk. Whenever you want to talk.”
    “Oh, Jill.” Liz began to sob.
    “Shhh, shhh,” Jill murmured.
    “Oh no. Oh, Jill. Oh no!”
    “Liz!” Jill was crying, too. “Liz, shit, you’re really scaring me. It’s okay. It’s okay. Where are you? Are you all right?”
    Liz couldn’t reply.
    “Dammit. I said the asinine thing. Liz!” Her voice hit a high note. “Elizabeth Burke Daniels, you tell me what’s wrong right now!”
    “It’s Paul,” Liz sobbed. “Paul. He’s taken the kids.”
    Silence pulsed over the connection in the wake of Liz’s statement.
    “What the what?” Jill said at last. “I don’t even know what that means.”
    Maybe it was hearing her friend talk in something approaching her usual tone. It jogged Liz back into a semblance of normalcy herself.
    “Neither do I,” she muttered.
    “That is not what I was—expecting. I don’t know what I was expecting. I’m sorry, but what the hell are you talking about?”
    Liz relayed her dire discovery, each unfolding turn that led to Paul’s act, in as clear a stream of words as she could muster. The rug felt like burrs against her thighs, and she separated herself stickily from its weave. The act of telling had amounted to exertion. Liz was perspiring and out of breath, panting a bit as the story finally wound down.
    Jill sounded blank. “But—how do you know what that means? How do you know Paul’s not—I don’t know, pissed at you, he’s seemed kind of pissy lately—and they just came back here?”
    Something let loose inside Liz. There was the matter of the disconnected cell phone, but she ignored that for now. She wiped dampness off her face and arms and neck, words tumbling out. “I—well—maybe I don’t. Oh my God. Jill, can you—”
    “You don’t have to say it.” There were fluttery sounds in the background,Jill rising, looking around. “Andy!” she called out, causing a brief ping of recrimination in Liz.
    Andy shouldn’t be disturbed at this hour, not in his current state, and not for what was surely going to turn out to be a wild goose chase.
    But what if it wasn’t?
    “It’s fine, Andy will be