Broken Glass

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Broken Glass Page 8

by V. C. Andrews


  I suddenly recalled Haylee bringing up the subject of rape when we were alone in my room doing homework. A serial rapist had been captured in Philadelphia. He had killed three of his victims, and it clearly looked like they had put up as much of a battle as they could. They were brutally beaten, and two of them were around our age.

  “Would you fight or just lie back and enjoy it?” Haylee had asked.

  “Enjoy it? How could you enjoy it?”

  “You just imagine the rapist is someone you like.”

  “That’s disgusting.”

  “At least you’ll live.”

  “I couldn’t do that,” I’d said.

  She’d laughed. “I could,” she had said. Then she had looked at me so seriously that it took my breath away. Gone was her impish little smile, a smile I knew Mother wasn’t fond of seeing because I never had such a smile.

  “You look like you have indigestion,” she would tell her. “Stop that.”

  “You could do that?” I’d asked Haylee.

  “Yes, Kaylee. You see, there are really big differences between us despite what Mother believes, deep differences.”

  “I agree,” I had said, nodding. “Vive la différence,” I’d added.

  Her impish smile had popped and disappeared like a soap bubble. “Yes, vive la différence.”

  Remembering that short but disturbing discussion about rape, I wondered if I could do it. Could I imagine that Anthony was someone I really liked?

  My body tightened even more as his hand stirred again and moved up to my right breast. He cupped it, his thumb touching my nipple, and then, as if my breast had caught fire, he pulled his hand away and turned onto his back. I hadn’t breathed the whole time. Now I gasped and tried to swallow the scream that was stuck in my throat. He was moving his hand over his own body, moaning as though it was my hand.

  “I love you,” he whispered. “I really love you.”

  A shocking thought went racing through my mind: Just as he hears what he wants me to say and sees what he wants me to do, he feels what he wants me to feel about him. It was almost as if it really didn’t matter if I was here or not, and to me, that was the most alarming realization of all, because in the end, he wouldn’t see my pain or hear a cry. He might not even notice if I didn’t eat or drink. My death might come as a total surprise.

  The tension in my body exhausted me. Despite my determination to stay awake, I dozed on and off. Maybe I just didn’t want to hear him or see what he was doing. I did turn onto my side so my back would be to him. The morning light that penetrated through the gaps in the boards on the windows seemed to tiptoe its way through the dim basement apartment to the bed as if it was afraid of being discovered.

  I heard him get up, but I didn’t turn. I cringed in anticipation, but he didn’t touch me or speak to me. I could hear him putting some cat food into Mr. Moccasin’s dish and giving him some water. He spoke to the cat, complimenting him on how well behaved he was. I think he said it loud so I would hear. After that, he went out and up the short stairway.

  I sat up and quickly located the nightgown I had been wearing before he’d brought me his mother’s clothes and put it on. Then, despite what I had planned, I got myself some water. My throat was painfully dry. How was I going to go on a hunger strike if I couldn’t even begin? I felt utterly defeated. I returned to the bed and sat staring down at the floor. Minutes later, he returned. I heard him enter, but I didn’t look at him.

  “Well, you’re up,” he said. “I hope you’re feeling better. Got to learn to control that happiness. Ma used ta say too much good time leads to bad times.”

  I still didn’t look at him.

  “However, since you were so excited about our anniversary dinner and so happy to be here now, I decided you didn’t need that chain,” he said. “I want you to really feel at home.”

  I turned in surprise as he approached me. He was stark naked. His skin looked sunburned red, and he had a good-size scar on the right side over his ribs. There was no embarrassment in him. I tried not to look. Haylee liked to show me pictures of naked men because she knew how it embarrassed me.

  “Get used to it,” she had said. “Hopefully, you’ll see more than one.”

  Anthony was smiling and holding up the key to the cuff locked around my ankle. I didn’t say a word. He knelt down and unlocked it, taking the chain away and curling it up under the hook in the wall.

  “That’s better, huh?”

  I nodded softly.

  “So. Let me get dressed and make you some oatmeal. I think your stomach will appreciate it. And some coffee, of course.”

  I didn’t move.

  “What a night,” he said as he crossed to his side of the bed. I heard him dressing. “It takes time. Falling deeply in love takes time, but we’re well on our way. You’ll find me a patient man. We both know what we want, so it’s not going to be hard.”

  “What do we want?” I asked, turning to him when he stood up to button his shirt.

  He smiled. “Why, what else? A family,” he said. “I’m just marching along to your orders. A baby in the first year. That’s what you said.”

  I started to shake my head but stopped, turned away, and muttered to Mr. Moccasin, who was sitting and looking up at me, “Haylee, what have you done to me?”

  7

  Haylee

  It took Simon Adams quite a while to get up the nerve to call and ask about Kaylee. He was probably still shaking all over from the events at the movie theater. I didn’t think we’d ever hear from him again.

  Daddy had looked in on me before he went downstairs in the morning to answer phone calls. I knew he was standing in my bedroom doorway, but I didn’t turn or open my eyes. He closed my door softly, and then I turned onto my back and looked up, infatuated for the moment with the way the morning light sliced through the window curtains and shifted shadowy shapes over the pale pink ceiling. The part of my brain that had always been my Kaylee part tried to project her face, with her pleading eyes gazing down at me, but I washed my own face with my dry palms, and she quickly disappeared.

  I hadn’t had even one dream, not one nightmare, about her. When we were very little, she had often clung to me when she was frightened by something, and I’d hated that because it brought her fear into me. I’d have to practically tear her arms away from me, but only when Mother wasn’t looking. Then she’d cry, and I’d cry so Mother wouldn’t know what I had done.

  Just like she wouldn’t know now. Of course, I wondered what Daddy really thought about all this. Thanks to the demands Mother was making on him in her hysterical state of mind, he hadn’t asked me too many detailed questions. I was sure that would come, but I’d be ready for it, and if he got too upset with me, I would turn the tables on him and blame it all on the way he had deserted us.

  I wondered how his night had gone. I had fallen asleep the moment my head hit the pillow, and I hadn’t heard any talk or movement outside my door. Right now, I didn’t feel like facing all that was unraveling, but I did have to pee, so I got up.

  When I came out of the bathroom, Daddy had just brought Mother her breakfast. I poked my head out to listen and heard him urging her to eat something. I didn’t hear her voice, so I closed the door. He stopped by my room again. This time, I turned to look at him.

  “How are you doing?” he asked.

  “I didn’t want to worry you, but I had one nightmare after another and hardly slept at all. You didn’t hear me, but I got up in the middle of the night and went to look in Kaylee’s room. I saw you asleep in her bed and hurried back here.”

  He nodded. “You don’t need to be asleep to have a nightmare. This whole thing is a nightmare. I just brought your mother something to eat. Come down when you’re ready.”

  “I heard the phone ring a few times this morning. That’s what actually woke me. Anything new?”

  “Just my secretary and some people at my office,” he said. “They’re releasing it all to the news media this morning. Ho
pefully, that will bring results. Good results,” he added, and went downstairs.

  I didn’t rush to follow him. Instead, I turned on my television, keeping the volume very low, and I saw Kaylee’s picture on the news. The commentator talked about the dangers of Internet relationships, especially for young girls, and some male detective out of Philadelphia discussed the problem in general. Once again, Kaylee’s picture was shown, and police numbers were flashed to call. It gave me a funny feeling, because although I knew the difference between us, of course, I still imagined those who knew us saw the picture and were, for the moment at least, thinking it was me. Anyone who didn’t know we were identical twins, strangers on the street, would look excitedly at me when they spotted me.

  I imagined someone rushing over to me and asking, “Are you the girl who was kidnapped?” They would probably think they had found the missing girl.

  “Oh, no,” I would say with a terribly sad expression, close to tears. “That’s my dear identical twin sister. She’s still missing.”

  I decided to shut off the television and go downstairs. First, I looked in on Mother. She appeared to have fallen asleep again, with her tray on her lap and little, if any, of her food eaten. I was still in my pajamas. As I anticipated, my cell phone started ringing only minutes after Kaylee’s picture was posted on the morning news. I didn’t answer, of course. I returned to my room and switched the phone off, but then my landline began ringing. I turned off the ringer, and those calls went to voice mail, too.

  Daddy had just hung up after speaking to someone and turned to me when I entered the kitchen.

  “Was that the police?”

  “No. Melissa Clark.”

  Melissa was one of Mother’s older friends. For a long time, Mother had had very little to do with any of the women in her group, especially after the divorce. She had started to see some of them again when she began dating, and now, with the breaking news about Kaylee on television and radio, they were all sure to be calling.

  “I looked in on Mother, and she was asleep with the tray of food on her lap.”

  “I’ll go back up soon.”

  He poured himself another cup of coffee and shook his head. The look on his face frightened me. Had he discovered something? What mistake had I made?

  “We might have to get some temporary help,” he said.

  I released the air I had trapped in my lungs as if I was blowing out birthday candles. Anyone would think I was crazy, but I enjoyed the excitement this had brought into my life. It was as if the wide spotlight that had always been on the “mirror sisters” had been tightened and was now on only me.

  “What kind of help?”

  “Dr. Bloom suggested a private-duty nurse for a while, one with a psychiatric background. Just to help us out,” he said, “especially when I’m not here, and to help you with your mother when you return to school.”

  “I thought you were moving back, Daddy.”

  “I’m here. I’ll be here until . . . until she comes home, for sure, Haylee, but I’ll have to go out to do some work now and then. I still have a business to run, with many people depending on me.”

  “It’s all right. We don’t need a nurse. I’ll be here to do what has to be done. I’m not going to school until my sister comes home,” I said. “I couldn’t possibly concentrate on anything else.”

  “We’ll see,” he said. “I don’t want you to miss too much, and it might be a while.”

  “The school will get my work to me. You’ll let them know, okay?”

  “We’ll see,” he said.

  The phone rang again.

  “I don’t want to talk to anyone, Daddy,” I said quickly.

  He picked up the receiver.

  “Who’s Simon Adams?” he whispered, with his hand over the mouthpiece.

  “Her latest,” I said with a smirk. “She was out with him when we went to that movie theater and Kaylee disappeared.”

  “No,” he told Simon, “there’s nothing new yet. I’ll tell her you called, yes. Thank you,” he added, and hung up.

  “He’s pathetic,” I muttered. “And he was more terrified than Mother and me.”

  Daddy almost smiled. He widened his eyes at my remark and then offered me some toast. I shook my head.

  “Haylee . . .”

  “Every time I eat something, it gets caught in my throat,” I whined.

  “Haylee, if you get sick on top of everything else . . .”

  “Okay, okay. I’ll force it down,” I said.

  “I could make us some eggs, too. I scrambled some for your mother.”

  “Mother’s not eating. I told you. She fell asleep again with the food getting cold.”

  “She’ll doze on and off, probably. She said she would eat and then she would get up and come down.” He hesitated like someone who didn’t want to say any more.

  “Oh. So she’s feeling strong enough? Why would you think we needed a psychiatric nurse, then?” He was still hesitating. “Daddy?”

  “She asked me if you were both at breakfast already.”

  “Huh? You mean she forgot what’s happened?”

  “I don’t know if I’d call it forgetting,” he said. “That’s why I was thinking you and I might need some help with her, but we all might need someone with experience in these sorts of things. The effects are deep and lasting.” He shook his head at how pessimistic he was sounding and then started on some scrambled eggs.

  Of course, Daddy was right, but I really didn’t want some stranger poking her nose into our affairs, whether she was a trained psychiatric nurse or not. Maybe I was afraid she would look at me and tell my father that I wasn’t acting right. It was enough that I had the detectives questioning me with skeptical eyes. By now, they surely had gone to most of the kids I had listed. I wondered if any of them would say anything to put doubt about me in their minds. I didn’t trust some of Kaylee’s friends, but I couldn’t exactly leave them off the list. That would have brought more attention to me.

  The eggs looked and smelled delicious, but I poked at them as if even the smallest nibble would upset my stomach. If you’re suffering because your sister’s been abducted, you don’t have a hearty appetite.

  I looked up when I felt Daddy’s eyes on me.

  “Have you thought harder about things, Haylee? Is there anything else, any detail that might help the police? Surely Kaylee said something that might be a lead,” he said, and sat across from me. “You two were so close.”

  “A lot has changed since you left us, Daddy. We haven’t been as close as we were. Every time I asked her something specific about her Internet friend and warned her that she was playing with fire, she told me it was her business, not mine.”

  “That seems so unlike her.”

  “You weren’t here ninety percent of the time. You didn’t see how she changed. Having something of her own, even this, was more important to Kaylee than it was to me, Daddy. And we both knew how Mother would react if she found out what she was doing.”

  “Why didn’t you ever think to call me?”

  I sat back and grinned in what I knew to be my condescending way. “That’s almost a joke, Daddy. If I had ever gone to you instead of to her, we would have suffered ten times as severely, and whatever we had holding us together as a family after you had left would have shattered as easily as . . . as the bone china dinnerware you bought for one of your anniversaries.”

  “I didn’t actually leave you,” he muttered.

  I tilted my head and held my smile.

  He nodded and returned to his food. “Well, just keep raking your memory,” he said. “Like the detectives said, the smallest, most insignificant detail to you could be important to them.”

  The phone rang again, and again it was one of Mother’s friends.

  “I can’t imagine her answering one of these calls,” he said after he hung up. “When I’m not around . . .”

  “I’ll just let it go to voice mail,” I said. “I can’t talk to people about
it, either. I shut off my cell phone. If I start to answer their questions, I’ll just cry and cry.”

  “Okay, but we don’t want to miss the police should they come up with a question for you or for me. And of course, your grandmothers will call, as well as my brothers, I’m sure.”

  “Whenever I can, I’ll look at the caller ID first,” I said, “but I hate to have to tell our relatives anything. They’ll only bring me tears.”

  “There’s no way to make this easier, Haylee. The two of us have to stay as strong as we can now. And most of all, we should keep positive. Kaylee will be coming home.”

  “Of course she will,” I said. Did I sound positive enough for him?

  “You always think of things like this happening to other people. If anyone had ever told me that someday one of you . . .”

  We both looked up when Mother entered, carrying her tray. Neither of us had heard her coming down the stairs. She was walking like a zombie. Her hair wasn’t brushed, and she wore no makeup, but what amazed me more was that she was wearing the same dress she had worn to go out with Simon Adams. She was even wearing the same shoes. She would never wear the same clothes she had worn a day or two before, often not even a week before.

  “Keri, you didn’t eat enough,” Daddy told her when he saw her tray.

  She looked at him as if she had forgotten he was here. When she saw me, she turned angry. I took a deep breath. Here we go again, I thought. Why didn’t I tell her what Kaylee was doing? But she surprised me.

  “Why did you come down to breakfast without your sister?” she asked. “You’re always supposed to wake each other. You’re each other’s alarm clock.”

  As insane as it sounded, believe it or not, that brought relief. I guessed Daddy was right about her mental state. Maybe she was still in a state of shock. Maybe she would never get out of it. How will this end? I wondered. Will I end up living with Daddy?

 

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