Ask Me to Stay by Elise K Ackers

rest of the way to the primary school and got there before the first kid had reached the gate to freedom. He’d worried about sending Rowan and Nina back so soon, and after so big a night, but this morning he’d rationalised that fatigue would distract them. And the longer he kept them from their normal lives, the harder normality would be. He’d checked his mobile all day but the school hadn’t called.
    A good sign, he hoped.
    Nina was out first. She still wore her many necklaces. The teachers clearly hadn’t had the guts to ask her to remove them. Dean could see Rowan lingering with his friends and didn’t rush him. He had to tread so carefully with Ro. Neenz, she was unstoppable.
    ‘Daddy!’ Delighted, she opened her arms and he lifted her off her feet. When she was propped against his hip, her arms around his neck, she said, ‘We’re getting a new kind of milk!’
    ‘Yeah? What kind?’
    ‘Gross free!’
    He squeezed her and laughed. If this kid rose to power she would change the world in a thousand charming ways.
    Rowan joined them. Not caring who saw, he took his father’s hand. The three of them walked back to the garage, talking softly. Trying not to think about the woman who was lost to them.
    When Nina was buckled into the back seat of Dean’s car, she said, ‘That was another goodbye, right, Daddy?’
    Her orb-like eyes watched him in the rear-view mirror. Beside her, Rowan watched him too.
    Dean turned in his seat. ‘Yeah, kids.’ Grief elbowed him in the heart. ‘No more Mum at the school gate.’
    They were quiet a moment.
    Rowan said, ‘But you’ll come?’
    ‘Until you’re too cool to be seen with me.’
    Rowan rolled his eyes; he was too young to imagine such a time.
    As Dean drove, he broke the news. ‘We’ve got another goodbye tonight, guys. Think you can handle it?’
    Nina’s eyes rounded again. ‘What?’
    ‘You’ve got to say goodbye to yummy dinners – because I’m cooking tonight!’
    They protested and laughed – peals of laughter that delighted him.
    ‘But what about all that food?’ Rowan cried. ‘All that good food in the fridge and freezer?’
    Dean slapped his palm against the steering wheel. ‘Of course! I forgot about all that good food! I’m not cooking tonight!’
    ‘Yay!’ his passengers chorused.
    Ethan woke in an unfamiliar bed. Alone and disorientated, it took him one frightening moment to realise why he couldn’t see out of his right eye. His seeking fingers found a gauze pad taped over the socket. His stomach rolled and pitched when he scrambled up to find a mirror.
    He found one in the en suite bathroom, where, stripped to his boxer shorts and socks, Ethan leaned close to examine the damage. Very carefully, he eased the gauze away. There was a sizeable abrasion above his eyelid. As there was on his right shoulder. A nasty bruise was colouring the skin around that one, but the scrape was shallow.
    It had been treated. A yellow stain told him someone had dabbed antiseptic on it.
    Sammy.
    He shuffled back to the bedroom. She was not there, nor did it look like she had been. The room was nondescript. Although tastefully decorated, modern and minimalistic, it contained no soul, no flair. Ethan was clearly in a guest bedroom.
    He pulled on the jeans and T-shirt he’d been wearing last night, marvelled at the filthy state of them, then downed the two painkillers and the glass of water waiting for him on the bedside table.
    He stepped into the hallway, searching for memories. He’d fought with Dean again – something about their parents. Sammy . . . Sammy-doll had sat with him on the street. There’d been broken glass. She’d been crying.
    Christ. He walked faster, anxious to see her.
    But the house was empty.
    Once he realised he was alone, and that he had no means of contacting her, he looked about and took in his surroundings. The house was tasteful and discreetly feminine. There weren’t a lot of fussy things on display – everything seemed