"Going somewhere?" Veronica said. "That little tip you gave me didn't work out so well. The water is like Miracle-Gro to that shit. The fucking algae is thicker than ever. But I suppose that's what you wanted, isn't it?"
"No," Joey said. "I wanted to help Samantha and the others. They're trapped in there."
"Well now they're never going to get out, unless you come back with me and work on finding a cure."
"Don't do it," Molly said. "It's a trick. If we go back with her, she'll kill us all."
"Now Molly, whatever would make you think that?"
Molly touched her hair and dress, reminders of what Veronica had done to her as well as everyone else on the island. "You're a bad person," she said. "You didn't want to help anyone at all. You wanted the fountain all to yourself."
"Why shouldn't I? None of you know how to use its power. To you it's something to cure your boo-boos. Why shouldn't I take it for myself and use it the way it should be used?"
"It's not a weapon," Molly said. "You're not supposed to use it to hurt people."
"I've hurt people? For thirty-five years I've suffered because of that brat Samantha. Thirty-five fucking years of my life because of her betrayal! All I've done is even the score."
"We didn't do anything wrong. They made us," Helena said. "They said if we didn't help them escape they were going to hurt us. We didn't want to leave the cellar. Honest."
"Oh, that's all right, sweetie. I know you didn't do anything wrong on purpose," Veronica said. She relaxed her grip on Helena, who breathed a sigh of relief. Before Joey could shout a warning, Veronica plunged the knife into Helena's chest.
Helena, Phyllis, and Molly all screamed as one. Joey stood there in silence, staring at the bloody wound forming on Helena's grubby dress. Veronica yanked the knife out of Helena and then shoved her limp body to the ground. Joey looked down at the ground, but he didn't see Helena. He saw Mommy.
Joey wakes in the middle of the night to the sound of a crash. At first he wonders if it's thunder, but then he hears voices from stairs. He doesn't recognize the voices. Strangers! he thinks.
He crawls out of bed and tiptoes to Mommy's bedroom. "Mommy? There are bad people downstairs," he whispers. No one answers him. He pats the blankets to find Mommy isn't there. Where did she go? he wonders.
The arguing continues downstairs. He hears another crash as he creeps down the stairs. Mommy must have gone down there to stop the bad people. He wishes Daddy were here; he would be able to stop them.