Chapter 2: Them
When Dan and Phil turned around, they saw only that Megan had laid her face on her knees.
"Megan," Phil began, but he was silenced by the sudden jerk of her body, and he watched as her head raised from her hiding place. She shook terribly while tears leaked from her eyes.
"I-I'm s-s-sorry," she wept, "I'll be g-good, I pr-promise!" Her plea dissolved into more tears while the two men stood in shock.
"You've been very good," Phil told her, "you've done nothing wrong, love."
"Phil's right," Dan took a step forward, "we aren't angry with you. You're safe with us."
"Dan and I don't hit," Phil's voice was quiet, but effective.
"You…you don't?" the question was followed by a hiccup.
"No, we don't," Dan assured her with a smile. The girl sniffed and wipe her eyes.
"You aren't mad?" she checked.
"Not with you," Dan clarified, "we are angry with Ms. Mavis."
"Why?" she hugged her knees again.
"Ms. Mavis doesn't treat you the way she should," Phil simplified the situation.
"She…doesn't?" Phil was relieved to see her grip on her knees loosen.
"No," Dan said firmly, "she's broken adult rules."
Now the blond girl could do nothing but stare at the men in front of her. Her wide eyes flicked from one to the other. At last, she spoke up.
"What adult rules?"
"One is that adults are not allowed to hurt children. She's hurt every child here, hasn't she?"
Megan thought for a moment before nodding. "We all get hit," her soft voice was even fainter now.
"She is also meant to feed you three times a day," Phil told her. Again, the girl's surprise broke his heart.
"Not once?" she asked.
"Once in the morning, once in the afternoon, and once at night," Dan clarified, "no matter how you behave."
The two men let her take in the information. Dan checked his phone after a moment.
"The police should be here any minute," he announced.
"Good," Phil felt the tension in his shoulders drain away. It came back all at once when there was knocking on the door. It opened to reveal Ms. Mavis, whom Phil now despised. His friendly demeanor vanished when he spoke.
"Yes, Ms. Mavis?" Dan's head jerked towards Phil. It was incredibly rare to hear ice in his tone.
The woman raised her eyebrows. "I was wondering if you'd finished speaking to Megan," she said, a pleasant smile forming on her lips. Dan barely stopped himself from rolling his eyes.
"Yes," he said, "could we speak to you in the kitchen, please?" Phil nodded; it was best to keep her from the other kids.
"Has Megan not been helpful? I can assure you that I will discipline her for that," her eyes narrowed at her charge in the corner.
"Not at all," Phil said quickly, "she has been lovely. We just wanted to ask you some questions there," he pulled out his camera, "it'll be a nice setting, and then you'll be free to do what needs doing while we continue with the other children."
"Ah, yes," the blond waves bounced as she nodded, "right this way."
Before Dan left the room behind Ms. Mavis and Phil, he glanced back at Megan. "It'll be over soon," he promised. She nodded, and he closed the door behind him.
The kitchen was spotless. Dan noted the lack of preparations for lunch, but made no comment. While Phil debated over the setting of the "interview" with Ms. Mavis, he checked his phone and frowned. Surely the police should be here by now.
"Dan, I think we've got it," Phil's voice brought him back to the sparse kitchen. Ms. Mavis was sitting at the table with two glasses of water set at the places closest to the window. Dan analyzed the lighting and angle Phil was using. "Will the light be enough?"
Phil shrugged his shoulders, "There isn't anything I can do to make it better."
"The overhead lamp isn't doing much," sighed Ms. Mavis, "if I had more funding I could fix things around here." Dan let that comment go, but he saw Phil want to respond nastily. Discreetly, Dan shook his head as he sat. Phil couldn't help the "hm" that escaped, or the small eye roll. Ms. Mavis' brows raised, but Dan distracted her by "accidentally" knocking the water glass hard enough to almost spill it. He let out an obnoxious sigh of relief, and Phil laughed.
It was then the doorbell rang. Ms. Mavis jolted. Phil couldn't help asking, "Expecting someone?"
"No," Ms. Mavis rose, "I'll just get that." Dan and Phil waited five seconds before following.
"Finally," Dan muttered as she opened the door. Two gruff police officers stood there.
"Can I help you?" Ms. Mavis questioned.
"Ms. Mavis Darby?" asked the female with raised brows.
"Yes," she answered warily, "why? No one called you here, did they?"
"We received a 911 call fifteen minutes ago, reporting neglect and abuse," the male spoke calmly.
Ms. Mavis had the audacity to laugh, "That's ridiculous!"
"No, it's not," Dan countered.
"We have a video testimony," Phil held out the camera to the female officer. She took it and turned it on.
"It's the last video recorded," Phil said helpfully.
"What did that bitch say?" When Dan saw the anger in the woman's blue eyes, he gulped
"Ms. Mavis, please remain calm," the male officer made the request a warning. Ms. Mavis didn't heed it.
"I'll kill her! That traitorous bitch!" the voice exploded out of the woman, and the male officer had her cuffed within seconds of the outburst. Then Ms. Mavis started screaming vile words that made Phil feel slightly sick. The female officer merely huffed out a breath while her partner read Ms. Mavis her rights and guided and/or dragger her to the cruiser.
"Is there a place for us to discuss this?" she moved her gaze from Dan to Phil slowly, as if she was gathering an astounding amount of new information from only their expressions and appearances.
"We could use the kitchen," Dan shrugged, and Phil laughed from relief, nerves, and general emotional overload. After having to correct Phil on which direction the kitchen was, the three sat at the table. Officer Ray, as she introduced herself, watched with no expression as Megan answered questions in the video.
"This is enough to put Ms. Darby in a cell," Officer Ray looked at the British men, "the kids here will be transferred to other homes with required therapy."
"Good," sighed Phil, "we want them to be safe and happy."
Officer Ray's face completely softened with a smile, "they'll get there eventually. Now," she stood, "I'll need you two to stay in town, and the memory card from this."
"Absolutely," Dan agreed, "we're going to be in North Carolina for the next three months, and we can use the hotel here as a base. After that, our visa runs out."
"If there's anything you need," Phil fished out a pen and pad of paper from a drawer after searching through four, "here are our numbers."
"And we'd like updates on the case," added Dan, "I want to know what happens to them." Phil nodded his agreement and gave the torn piece of paper to the cop. She nodded and put it in a pocket on her belt.
"I can do that," she told them, "and one last thing—do you know where Ms. Darby kept her paperwork?"
"There's a front desk in the entrance hall," remembered Phil, "but she didn't show us any of the papers or filing side of things. We were more focused on the children than the administration."
"That's fair," Officer Ray acknowledged, "I would be too, if I was adopting."
"Oh, we're not adopting," Dan laughed awkwardly.
"We're filming a documentary on the American child care systems and child services," Phil explained with a light blush, "we aren't…together."
"Ah," her eyebrows raised and an amused smirk formed, "I see." Then she gestured for them to follow her back to the entrance.
The silence worried Phil. Children should be curious, they should be creeping from the woodwork by now.
"Where are the kids?" Officer Ray asked. The useless answer of "I don't know" was interrupted by the doorbell. Officer Ray opened it to the EMTs that had been sent.
"We were told some kids might need treatment from physical abuse and malnutrition. We have some snacks and water bottles, juice boxes, and—" the man frowned while setting down the giant cooler. The other EMTs set down their supplies as well.
"Why is it so quiet?" the first one asked.
"Often, abused children are scared into silence," a woman behind him explained quietly. She came forward and showed Officer Ray her ID badge and said, "Social Services."
After Officer Ray nodded her approval, the agent turned to the EMTs and said, "I think it's best to go from room to room, and lead with the food. It will go a long way towards trust." The three of them thanked her, and one piped up, "Does anyone know how many kids are here so we can be sure to get everyone the attention they need?"
The Social Services agent opened a file and said, "I have seventeen registered here."
"Got it," the last EMT nodded, "it's go time." With that, the three of them set off.
"Agent Fulcon, I assume you need the paperwork," Officer Ray broke the new silence.
"Yes, I do," she smiled.
"We think it's here, but we're not sure," Dan said, and when both women turned to look at him, he wished he'd kept his mouth shut. What was he supposed to say now that they were looking at him?
"Yeah," Phil said lamely, and Dan cringed. We're too awkward for this shit. Luckily, the two women only smiled at each other (which may not have been a good thing, but neither man could tell) and searched through the scarred desk together. Dan and Phil exchanged uncertain glances—were they supposed to help or stay out of it? Dan was about to ask when Agent Fulcon gave a cheer. Grinning widely, she dumped a large pile of papers on top of the desk.
"Excellent," said Officer Ray with a smile.
Finally, Dan found the courage to offer to help them.
"Yes, thanks," Agent Fulcon smiled warmly as they approached. "If we can sort this into papers about each child, that would help build their profiles for us."
"I need the originals as evidence, but we can make photocopies for y'all," Officer Ray began dividing the piles into four. Agent Fulcon looked like she was going to protest, but ultimately shrugged and took her pile with no complaints. Officer Ray's only reaction was a glance at the agent, followed by a self-satisfied smirk.
A half-hour later, the seventeen incomplete profiles had been laid out on the floor, Dan's neck ached, Phil's left leg had fallen asleep, and one EMT briefly stopped by to report there were no serious injuries and all children had been given food and water. Then she'd headed back to keep an eye on all of them. That's when Dan and Phil gave each other confused looks.
"What?" asked Agent Fulcon, who noticed. Officer Ray looked up from her pile.
"Where's Megan?" Phil forgot about his left leg as the sinking feeling came back to his stomach.
"The girl from the video…" the officer frowned and looked over the piles. Agent Fulcon scanned her list. The two women looked at each other, then at Dan and Phil.
"I don't have a Megan on my list," Agent Fulcon finally said.
"But there has to be," Dan shook his head, "we didn't interview a ghost."
"No, you didn't," agreed Officer Ray. Dan decided never to share how much that relieved him. Then Officer Ray closed her eyes and said, "Oh, God."
"What?" Agent Fulcon was just as lost as the two men across from her.
"Ms. Mavis Darby is blond and blue-eyed," Officer Ray said. Then she opened her eyes, and continued: "So is Megan."
"You think," Agent Fulcon stopped speaking when the cop rose and went through the desk drawers. The others sat in silence until she'd unearthed a small photograph. A tiny baby was in Ms. Mavis Darby's arms, and on the back of the picture in gentle cursive was:
Megan Eleanor Darby, née January 6th 2012
