He nodded, as if he’d been expecting me to say such a thing. “You know, I’ve been thinking a lot lately, trying to remember back to that day, and I realized that it was right around the time when my sister started acting really strange. I mean, even stranger than bringing someone home and locking her inside a closet. You might not believe this, Marin, but that’s not who my sister is. She’s never done anything like that before.”
“Well, there’s a first time for everything.”
“True.” Dominic raised an eyebrow. “Very true. But right after that was when her behavior started to get really weird. She wasn’t sleeping, for one. She’d get up late at night and wander around the house for hours, like she was looking for something. And then just a few weeks ago I found her in the kitchen when I came down for a drink of water. She was opening and closing the cupboard drawers, rummaging through things, and then moving on to something else. When she saw me, she got this strange expression on her face, like she didn’t know who I was. When I asked her what was wrong, she just blinked, like she hadn’t heard me. And then when I went over to her and asked her again, she hissed at me. Hissed! Like a cat.” Dominic made the noise between his teeth—ssssssst. “I leaned back a little, you know, because it kind of freaked me out, and she laughed. And, Marin, I’m telling you, it wasn’t her laugh. I don’t know how to explain it, but it was this completely foreign sound, this deep, weird noise, like someone else’s voice had gotten stuck inside her throat. It was all of three seconds, but it was the freakiest thing I ever heard.”
“What’d you do?”
“There was nothing I could do.” Dominic shrugged. “She just turned around and walked back out of the room. Went inside her bedroom and shut the door, like nothing had ever happened. The next morning, she was up and dressed, ready to go to school.” He rolled his bottom lip over his teeth. “I just … God, I have so many things running through my mind that I don’t know what to think. I just want to figure out how to help her.”
We were on the sidewalk now, on the corner of Market and Main Streets, a bus stop looming ahead of us like a wide plastic cave. The bench inside it was empty. I headed toward it and sat down, glancing at the scrawl of graffiti marring the smooth surface: Jesus loves you. Go fuck yourself. Brian-n-Lacey Forever! The juxtaposition of the phrases was so stark that looking at them, I didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. How was it that love continued to exist alongside such ugliness? Or did it?
Dominic followed, settling himself in the space next to me. “Can you please just tell me what happened in the closet that day, Marin?”
“I don’t know!” I burst out. “I don’t know what happened that day! I swear to God I don’t! It wasn’t my fault!”
“I’m not saying anything’s your fault,” Dominic said. “I’m not blaming you for anything. I just want you to tell me what happened.”
“Why?” My voice was ragged, the sound coming out of my throat like something torn. “Why do I have to keep being involved?”
“Because you already are. You were there.” Dominic touched my arm. “Don’t you understand, Marin? You’re the only one who knows what really happened. Which means that you’re the one who holds the key to fixing it.”
“I can’t fix it!” I shook my head. “I can’t do anything! I didn’t even want to be there! She forced me to go inside that closet!”
“I know.” He winced, remembering. “But, Marin, listen to me. There’s got to be some kind of connection between whatever happened that day and what’s happening now.” He reached over and took my hand, sliding it inside his. “Think about it. All of this can’t be a coincidence. I know it’s not.”
I wasn’t sure if I heard anything else after he took my hand in his. It was such a natural move, completely devoid of self-consciousness, as if he’d done it a million times. Which of course, he probably had, with other girls. His fingers looked too big to be wrapped around mine, the nails short and neatly clipped alongside my stubby, gnawed ones. But they felt just right there, too, as if they belonged somehow. The blue disk inside his wrist seemed to fade a little as I regarded it from this angle, and I fought the urge to reach out with my free hand and run my fingertips over the top of it.
“Marin.”
Oh my God. What was I thinking, getting all worked up about him taking my hand? He wasn’t interested in me. Not that way. He was here for a singular objective only, one that involved me finding the “key” to unlocking the crazy box his sister had gotten herself into. I glanced away from his pleading eyes and stared instead at the cracks in the sidewalk beneath us. A weed sprouted up between the cement, green and flourishing despite its tiny prison. I crushed it under the sole of my shoe.
“Can you please—”
“Why can’t you just leave me alone?” I pulled my hand away from his and turned on him. “Seriously! I mean, first it’s your sister, and now you!”
He didn’t answer right away, looking stunned by my outburst. Then: “I just want you to be straight with me. Tell me what really happened that day at my house.” His eyes looked like pieces of glass in the sunlight. “I’m on your side here, remember?”
My side? Since when had things been divided into camps? And who was in the opposite one?
I closed my eyes, trying to steady myself.
I had to start telling the truth about something.
To someone.
Even if it was him.
And even if it meant I might lose everything because of it.
Eight
Cassie had been riffling through a rack of clothing inside her closet that day when she paused and threw a dress on the bed. “How about that one?” Her tone was careless, bored even. “I never wear it anymore. Actually, I don’t even think I wore it at all. It’s a four. You wear a four, don’t you?”
I nodded, gazing at the dress, which was floor length, with a bias cut and deep neckline. Molded cups had been sewn inside the navy blue material to accentuate the bust, and tiny rhinestones glittered around the waist.
“You like it?” she asked over her shoulder.
“It’s beautiful.” I fingered the silky material, letting it slip through my fingers like oil. The rhinestones looked like little balled-up pieces of tinsel. I’d had lots of dresses before, but none like this. This was like something a woman would wear at a movie premiere. On Johnny Depp’s arm. It had to be exorbitantly expensive. “What about the other girls, though?” I asked. “Maybe we should wait till they get here and have a chance to look at everything too.”
“Oh, Dawn and Krista?” Cassie threw another dress on the bed. It was short, crimson colored, with thick straps that crisscrossed in the back. “Didn’t I tell you? They both texted me on the way home. They forgot they had tutoring after school. They can’t come.”
“Oh.” I stood there awkwardly, the hem of the dress still in my hands. That hadn’t been the deal. Cassie had said there would be four of us coming to her house after school. “Well, are you sure you don’t want this one anymore?”
“Totally.” Cassie walked over and sat down on her bed. She reached for one of the black and white throw pillows arranged like dominoes across a matching comforter and hugged it to her chest. “My mother went out and bought it for me last year after my shrink told her that he thought I had dyslexia.”
“Dyslexia?”
“Yeah, you know. When you see some words backward instead of forward? Apparently I’ve had a mild case of it since before I even started to read, but my parents never noticed.” She rolled her eyes. “Anyway, I don’t see words backward exactly. Some of them just look jumbled up a little. Like someone went”—she made a scrubbing motion with one hand—“like that to them. Switched ’em all up.” She shrugged. “That’s why I’m in Mrs. Randol’s class every morning now with all the rest of the retards. Actually, it’s not too bad. More a pain in the ass than anything.” She studied me, waiting for my reaction, but I said nothing. “Go ahead! If that one fits, I have another one just like it you can have.
Let’s see what it looks like. Try it on!”
I hesitated. “Right here?”
“Well, yeah.” Cassie shrugged. “It’s just us. You’re not embarrassed or anything, are you?”
I looked away. Embarrassed or not, there was no way I was going to take my clothes off in front of this girl; aside from the sudden revelation about her dyslexia, I still only knew her for all of ten minutes. Plus, it was weird. I never undressed in front of anyone. Ever. “Can I just use your bathroom?” I asked.
Cassie opened her mouth as if she were about to object, and then closed it again. “All right,” she said. “Whatever. Just don’t touch anything.”
The bathroom, which was directly off the bedroom, was bigger than Nan’s kitchen. I steadied myself against the marble sink as I slipped off my shoes and wriggled out of my jeans. The mirror above the sink was as big as my bureau back home; bordered with white lightbulbs the size of tomatoes, it looked like something out of a movie star’s dressing room. The faucet was gold, the sink molded like a shell. I had just taken off my T-shirt when another door, on the opposite side of the bathroom, opened a crack.
I gasped, clutching my T-shirt against the front of my chest, but Cassie stepped inside and pressed a finger to her lips. “I’m … I’m not done yet,” I stammered.
“That’s all right.” She looked me over, taking in the worn bra Nan had gotten me at JCPenney last summer, and then hitched herself up along the surface of the sink. “I just need to ask you something.”
An uneasiness settled over my shoulders, and I shivered, as if a cold wind had blown into the room. I understood then that the invitation to come to Cassie Jackson’s house had been a ruse, that the absent girls were in fact no accident. I was here for another reason entirely. The knowledge descended so quickly, like a plastic bag snatched over my face, that I had no time to react. No time to breathe.
Cassie swung her legs a little, holding on to the edges of the countertop with both hands. “Your mother committed suicide, didn’t she?”
The question was so shocking, and I was so unprepared for it, that I staggered backward. “What?”
“I don’t mean to be rude. It was just something I heard from someone at school, and I want to know if it’s true.”
“That’s none of your business.” The words came out of my throat painfully, shards of glass being dragged against the skin. I was aware of my nakedness again, of standing there dressed only in my underwear, and it made me furious. I clutched at my shirt, moved quickly to retrieve my jeans.
Cassie sighed and hopped off the sink. “Oh, just tell me, all right? I told you about my dyslexia. Besides, it’s important that I know.”
“You’re sick.” I grabbed my sneakers, stuck my free hand inside them. “You know that? You’re seriously—”
She was on me before I could finish, pushing me by the shoulders into the flat of the door and then holding me there. I staggered backward under the movement, dropping my clothes, freezing as Cassie’s hand closed around my throat. Her face was inches from mine, a thick strand of blond hair caught between her lips like the tail of a mouse. She grabbed at my jaw with her other hand and held it tight between her fingers. “Is. It. True?”
For a terrible moment, I held the girl’s gaze. Her eyes were like nothing I had ever seen before, hard and clouded, like brown and blue marbles. Her fingers tightened around my jaw, squeezing the soft skin along the inside of my teeth. “Yes.” I ejected the word forcibly, hatefully.
Something eased in Cassie’s face. She released her fingers, dropping her hand inch by inch, and studied me. “Good,” she said. “Then we can begin.”
“Your mom killed herself?” Dominic’s voice sounded hollow, as if something inside had emptied itself. We were sitting in his Jeep, parked fifty feet or so past the farmhouse, the only private place either of us had been able to come up with to talk. Twice, Nan had pushed back the curtains to peek at us and then disappeared behind them again. Dominic’s hands were clasped between his knees, and his eyes roved over the side of my face.
I stared straight ahead, hoping he didn’t notice the quivering in my chin, and nodded once.
“Shit.” He turned his head again. “That must’ve been awful, Marin. I’m so sorry.”
I blinked, remembering the countless times the words I’m sorry had been thrown my way afterward, and the countless times I’d wanted to pick them up and throw them right back in the giver’s face. It had felt like such a trite, easy thing to say, just a small conglomeration of words that let people off the hook and meant nothing to me. Now, I realized, maybe some of them hadn’t known what else to say and this was what had come out. Maybe it was all they had.
“My grandmother did the same thing,” Dominic said. “Just a few years ago. Cassie took it really hard, probably worse than any of us. They were tight, the two of them. Like, ridiculously tight. Especially since our parents were always gone. Gram used to have Cassie over to her place all the time and took her on trips. She was always helping her with her reading, too, trying to get Cassie more into books and stuff.” He looked at me. “I probably would have gotten some kind of complex about how close they were if I hadn’t been so into sports.”
“Was she sick before she died?” I asked, remembering what Lucy had said. “Your grandmother?”
Dominic nodded, tapping the side of his head. “She was always a little off, but she kind of lost it toward the end. Like, she started wandering through town, yelling random stuff at people. She had to be put in a hospital. On lockdown.” His face hardened. “That was where she did it.”
“I’m sorry too.”
“Thanks.” Dominic was still staring out the window. “Anyway, I interrupted you. You were right at the part where Cassie was freaking out on you in the bathroom.” He shook his head. “Go on. I mean, if you don’t mind.”
Now it was my turn to stare out the window.
Bring myself back to that place.
Again.
“Begin what?” I asked, watching Cassie with wary eyes.
“I have a secret.” Cassie brought a finger to her lips. “Shhhh … Come with me.”
“I’m not going anywhere with you.” I started to put my jeans on, but Cassie reached out and grabbed me around the wrist. Her grip was like a dead bolt; her fingertips turned white.
“It won’t take long,” she said. “I promise.” I winced as her thumb ring dug into my skin. What could she possibly want from me? I twisted my arm, trying to wrench myself from her grasp. But it was no use; Cassie began to drag me toward a closet on the other side of the room.
“Let me go!” I yelled. “What are you doing? Are you crazy? Just let me go!” I could see her jaw clench as she dragged me inside, her arm muscles flexed tight as cords. She began to feel around the floor molding with one hand, still holding me firmly with the other. I leaned back with my whole weight, trying to throw her off balance, anything to loosen the suffocating grip, to break free and run. “Cassie, if you don’t let go of me, I’ll scream,” I said. “I swear to God, I’ll scream so loud that—”
She cut me off, yanking my arm so hard that I fell to my knees next to her. Her mouth was twisted into an ugly snarl as she leaned in close, but I could see the slightest glimmer of hesitation in her eyes, a break in the clouds. “Don’t scream,” she said. Her voice was hoarse, a tight whisper. “No one’s going to hurt you. Nothing bad is going to happen. I just need you to do something with me. Something that no one else can do with me except you.”
I stared into her face, a picture of rage, perspiration, and anxiety, and tried to steady my breathing. “What is it?” I asked.
“You’ll see.” She refastened her grip around my wrist. It was so tight that I winced.
“You’re hurting me,” I pleaded. “You’re breaking my wrist.”
She ignored me, pushing the hems of hanging clothes aside and feeling along the baseboards. Suddenly, she stopped, her fingers settling on a small, indented button.
* * *
“Wait.” Dominic interrupted me again. “What little button?”
I shook my head. “The one in her closet. In the wall. Behind her clothes. You know, on the left-hand side. There was a button or something that she pushed, and part of the wall opened.”
“Part of the wall opened?” He looked dazed. “Are you sure?”
“What do you mean, am I sure?” My annoyance flared. “Do you seriously think I would make something like that up? Right now?”
“No, no.” He held up his hand, warding off a rabid animal. “But I … I just don’t know what you’re talking about. A button? In the wall? Can you show me? I mean, if we went back to my house? Could you show it to me?”
“What?”
“If we go back. Right now. To my house. If I take you up to Cassie’s room and we go in that closet, will you show me that button?”
“You find it,” I retorted. “I’m telling you, it’s there. You don’t need me to point it out to you.”
“Marin. It’s a walk-in closet. I don’t know if you remember, but it’s filled to the brim with shoes and clothes. I mean, I wouldn’t be able to find my way around that thing with a magnifying glass. Please.”
I glanced out the window. The front curtains stayed shut. “I don’t know. I mean … what about Cassie? Didn’t you say she was home now?”
Dominic shook his head. “Yeah, but she’s not in her room. We had to take her upstairs. To the third floor. She’s in a room with no windows.”
I reached up, pressing three fingers against my forehead. My skin was damp despite the coolness in the air, and my fingers felt cold. “Okay,” I heard myself say. “I’ll show you where the button is. But that’s it. After that, I really have to go.”
“That’s all I need.” Dominic stuck his key into the ignition.
“I have to tell my grandmother I’m leaving.”
“Oh.” He looked startled. “Yeah, right. Of course. Sorry. I’ll wait.”
I could feel his eyes on me as I raced across the yard and opened the front door.
Be Not Afraid Page 10