Sisters of Misery

by Megan Kelley Hall

  Maddie looked up at Reed and shook her head slightly, a frown still firmly in place.

  “I’m just stressed right now, Reed,” Maddie said, quickly closing the browser before he could see what she was reading.

  “Is that why you stormed out of here before?” he asked.

  Maddie shrugged.

  “Let me take you to the Willows then. It’ll be fun,” he insisted. “I’ll buy you some cotton candy. It’ll cheer you up. Come on.” Salem Willows was a relatively run-down place filled with carnival rides and games, a giant old-fashioned carousel, penny candy, and coin-operated fortune-telling machines. Maddie remembered thinking it was great fun when she was younger—larger than life. Now she saw it for what it was, just an ancient amusement area by the ocean. A place that was very much like Hawthorne—untouched by time.

  Maddie was reluctant, but at least it gave her a good excuse to stay out of the house for a little while longer, a place that was becoming more tension filled by the day. Reed drove them into Salem, past the shade of the sweeping willow trees, and parked in front of the old-fashioned attractions. She wandered through the arcade while Reed went off to find them something to eat. She plunked her quarter into the Ski Ball game and held the small wooden ball to her eye, aiming for the center hole at the Ski Ball lane. Just before she rolled the ball, Reed whispered in her ear, “You’re off center,” causing her to jump forward and slam her shin on the metal bar of the Ski Ball lane.

  “Jesus!” Maddie yelled as she turned to face him. “That’s the second time today! Do you always sneak up on people like this?”

  Reed grinned an apology, then offered her a choice of cotton candy or a corn dog. Maddie relaxed a bit. She and Reed played all the old coin-operated carnival games—all still in perfect working order—like Ski Ball, Kiss-A-Meter, and the coin press. Maddie enjoyed the nickel and dime machines where you could make the puppets dance and the monkeys play instruments and especially enjoyed kicking Reed’s butt at air hockey. It was the first time she had felt relaxed and completely at ease in months, and yet she still pulled away every time Reed gave her an affectionate touch or squeeze.

  But as the afternoon went on, she couldn’t deny how much she enjoyed his company. He even made futile attempts at knocking down milk cans with a baseball in an attempt to win her a god-awful stuffed animal, the kind that was so stiff and ugly, you could just tell it had been sitting there for years, the felt mouth and googly eyes barely hanging on.

  While Reed finished up his game, Maddie wandered over to Madame Zelda’s Mysterious Crystal Ball and plunked a quarter in to see what the future had in store for her. Secretly, she was hoping it would say something about the object of her affection returning her love twofold, but when she read the fortune card, her happy mood changed:

  “While strongly disposed to have your own way, you will sacrifice that desire for your family’s welfare. You have some psychic powers, and unseen influences play strongly on you. Be prepared for betrayal by those you hold close.”

  Maddie pushed the uncomfortable feelings from her mind, shoved the fortune into her jeans pocket, and went to find Reed. He had given up on the milk bottle toss and had returned to Ski Ball, racking up a large number of orange tickets, which were curling out of the machine.

  “I think I’m ready to call it,” he said in a mock defeated tone. “You want to cash these babies in for something?” He reached down and pulled the line of tickets and handed them over to her.

  “Gee, thanks,” Maddie said sarcastically. “I bet I have enough here to get a spider ring or maybe even a whistle.” He playfully shoved his shoulder against hers and then tickled her side. She yelped and jumped out of his reach. “Excuse me while I go collect my winnings.”

  Maddie turned away from him, flushed from the attention. She could have sworn that several times that day, he’d let his fingers linger a bit longer on her own, she could feel his eyes on her when she wasn’t looking, and she even sensed that he was intentionally holding back and playing up the older brother act. At that moment, he came up behind her and swung his arm up around her shoulder, giving her an obvious “buddy” squeeze.

  “So, what are we picking out today?” he asked the bored, acne-faced kid behind the counter. There wasn’t much she could get with fifteen tickets, so she decided on a small package of Candy Cigarettes, Bit-O-Honey, and Jaw Breakers (the place was so old-fashioned that even the candy was from another decade). As she was collecting her booty, Reed plopped an adorable stuffed frog prince on the counter.

  “What…when…how did you get this?” Maddie was dumbfounded. She tried to internally rationalize his attentions. He was only twenty-two, not that much older. And he did seem to be having a good time, didn’t he?

  She just stood there, smiling awkwardly, until Reed broke the silence.

  “He had kind eyes and hands, and was a friend of sorrow.

  Thus they were married. After all he had compromised her.”

  Maddie wracked her brain, trying to think of where she’d heard that poem before.

  “Sylvia Plath?” she asked.

  “Close,” he said, smiling. “Anne Sexton.”

  “‘The Frog Prince’, of course!” Maddie laughed, clutching her prize. “Very clever, Reed, very clever.”

  Maddie felt her resolve crumbling. What was going on between them?

  When Reed dropped her off at home that evening, she had a warm feeling in the pit of her stomach. After leaving the Willows, she replayed the day in her mind—how they had strolled the boardwalk, eating ice cream cones and feeding the seagulls—and for a little while, Maddie was able to leave the craziness of the past few months behind her. Then she noticed another envelope crammed into the mailbox, and reality came crashing back. Maddie hoped that Sully was right—it was just a stupid prank. The envelope had the same block printing as the first letter—and no return address or stamp. This was a hand delivery.

  You were not wise. You were not prudent.

  You have become Reed’s favorite student.

  But everyone knows that the teacher’s pet,

  Has many lost loved ones to regret.

  You had your life. You had your fun.

  But now the real party’s just begun.

  Don’t think it’s over. Don’t think I’m gone.

  I’m back, dear Madeline, where I belong.

  Love and Butterflies,

  Cordelia

  The note inside was drastically different from the stark black letters on the envelope. It was written in purple ink, and the handwriting was delicate—all swirls and loops, as if written by a teenage girl. Her hands trembled as she read the words over and over again. Love and butterflies. That was how Cordelia signed all of her cards and letters. Who else would have known that? Maddie edged over to the hallway bench and collapsed onto its wooden frame.

  Maddie was humming to herself as she did the dishes later that night. She’d decided to focus on the fun she’d had earlier in the day and not on the threatening note she’d received. Her cheeks felt hot and flushed, and her stomach was tied in knots, but she wasn’t sure if it was because of her growing feelings toward Reed or the fact that her face was simply a bit wind-burned from her afternoon at Salem Willows. In any case, Abigail noticed and wasn’t pleased.

  “You know, you can run all over town with that boy, and it just makes people talk more,” Abigail fumed.

  “I’m not running all over town,” Maddie insisted. “Plus, people can talk all they want. I don’t care.”

  “Cordelia didn’t care either, and you see what happened to her.”

  Maddie slammed a pan in the sink. “No, I don’t see what happened to her. I don’t think anyone knows what happened to her. But it does seem like I’m the only one who cares anymore. It seems like I’m the only one that doesn’t think she just ran away.”

  “Well, if you do think something happened to her, why are you spending time with the one person that everyone thinks is responsible for her disappearance?�
� Abigail asked.

  “Oh, please, Mom, Reed had nothing to do with it.”

  “How can you be so sure?” Abigail asked.

  The truth was that she wasn’t sure. Was it just a coincidence that he had shown up at the library that afternoon, pulling her away from her research? Keeping her occupied all afternoon so that she couldn’t do any additional digging on Cordelia’s disappearance? Maddie tried to keep her voice down, aware that Tess was in bed. Sleep was something that didn’t come easily for any of them these days. Maddie didn’t want to add any unnecessary tension, given Tess’s condition.

  “What happened to all the candlelight vigils, Mom?” Maddie snapped, steering her mother away from a lecture about Reed Campbell. It was a sore subject, one that she could barely understand herself, so she didn’t want to try explaining it to her mother. “What happened to the strong community support that every reporter from here to Boston commented on? Who helped us pull our lives back together? No one seems to care that a member of our family disappeared into thin air. Cordelia’s been gone only a few months, and they act like she never even existed.”

  “These are good people, Madeline Crane,” Abigail said quietly, resolved. “They may not be the best, but I can tell you that they are definitely not the worst. They did their best to find that girl. But some people just don’t want to be found. And I believe with all of my heart that Cordelia was one of them.”

  Abigail motioned for Maddie to follow her into the living room. She paced over to her desk and retrieved a leather journal. “I found this in Cordelia’s room when I was boxing up their things. It was shoved up into the crawl space at the top of her closet.”

  She paused as if contemplating how much she should tell Maddie. Then she continued, “It belongs to Cordelia. I decided that the right thing to do would be to take it down to the police and let them put it with the evidence in her file. Maybe it would have helped with her case, I wasn’t quite sure.”

  Abigail moved over to the antique chaise lounge, and Maddie obediently followed, sitting across from her on the sofa. Overcome with curiosity, Maddie stared at the worn journal and then asked, “If you gave it to the police, why wouldn’t it still be in her file?”

  “Well, I said that giving it to the police would have been the right thing to do. But it’s my house and I found it,” she said defiantly. “So I read it, the whole book, cover to cover.” She stared straight at Maddie, almost daring her to show disapproval. “I felt that if she had disappeared, this would give some clue as to what happened to her. And if she had just decided to take off on her own, well, she would have taken with her what she wanted to keep private.”

  “What does it say?” Maddie was too concerned with what the journal said to be angry with Abigail at that point. She spoke evenly, hoping to restrain herself from tearing the book from her mother’s hands.

  “Well, it seems that the rumors were true about your cousin. She was…having relations with some boy—or boys, for that matter. Anyway, in one of the last entries, she was worried about being pregnant. Didn’t say who the father might be, although with the number of nights she used to sneak out of here, I wouldn’t be surprised if there was more than one contender.” Abigail shook her head in disgust and wrinkled her nose, her fair hands fluttering up to her neck. “And I wouldn’t be the least bit surprised if it was your new best friend there, Reed Campbell. Shame on him, taking up with a teenaged girl. And now that she’s run off, he’s taking up with you.”

  Maddie wasn’t sure why she felt slighted by her mother’s insinuation that Reed was only spending time with her because Cordelia was out of the picture.

  Abigail continued, “The journal never said whether or not she really was pregnant. I don’t even think she knew for sure. But I imagine that it was a good enough reason for her to run away, if that’s what did end up happening.”

  Maddie let the weight of Abigail’s words sink in, trying to comprehend it all. Cordelia pregnant? How could that be? They told each other everything. Maddie wasn’t even aware that Cordelia had been seeing anyone. She thought about what Kate had said after her cousin’s disappearance, how Cordelia had slept with Trevor, Reed, and a number of others. Maybe even Finn. But Kate couldn’t be telling the truth, could she?

  “I want to read it,” Maddie said firmly.

  “I figured that you would. Not a word of this leaves this house, mind you. I don’t want to get in any trouble with the law for concealing evidence. I wasn’t even going to show you this, but I think you’ll see that there really isn’t any mystery in the first place. Cordelia wasn’t kidnapped or killed or anything like that. She was scared. A scared, stupid girl. She got herself in trouble, and she took off. Just like Rebecca did. She’s probably back in California right now, pregnant, living in a trailer park. I’d just let the whole thing go. Just leave this family and this town in peace.”

  Maddie sat there bewildered, shaking her head.

  Abigail handed the journal to Maddie. “So there you have it. Here, take it. I don’t ever want to see it again. Just don’t show it to the police. Or anyone else, for that matter. It’s none of their damn business.”

  “Mother, you’re right. It’s not their business,” Maddie said staunchly. “It’s ours.”

  Chapter 21

  OTHILA REVERSED

  ANCESTRAL PROPERTY AND AUTHORITY

  Family Disputes and Break-ups; Bad Karma

  and Prejudice

  Maddie was almost afraid to see Reed’s name mentioned in Cordelia’s journal. She didn’t want to know about his involvement with Cordelia, not only because of her growing feelings for him, but also because any mention could link him more securely to Cordelia’s disappearance. Despite all of her sleepless nights and questions, she just couldn’t bear to know that Reed was at all responsible.

  But now she had a solid clue into what was going on with Cordelia prior to her disappearance. Maybe there was a name or a hint as to what happened. But if there were any leads, wouldn’t Abigail have mentioned them before now? Maddie also was desperate to compare the penmanship between the diary entries and the letters to see if Cordelia really was writing them. Maddie pulled the latest note from her pocket and carried it to her bedroom desk. Switching the desk light on and opening the top drawer, she smoothed the note along the worn grain of the oak desk and cracked open the journal. Mixed in among the scent of mildew was a slight hint of flowers and herbs. It was as though the pages of the journal not only possessed Cordelia’s thoughts, memories, and dreams, but also her essence. The curly, flowery script was startlingly similar to that of the second note she received, but Maddie couldn’t be absolutely certain that it came from the same hand.

  Maddie set the threatening letter aside and skimmed through the pages of the journal crammed with Cordelia’s treasured moments and secret thoughts.

  Somewhere in these pages lies the answer, Maddie thought.

  Maddie flipped to the entry written right after Cordelia started at Hawthorne Academy. Cordelia had obviously done her homework on the town’s infamous history. It was obvious that Cordelia wasn’t very happy with her new home.

  September 5th

  Only a very thin line separates the people who live in Hawthorne today and the ones who persecuted all those innocent women accused of witchcraft centuries ago.

  Salem got the infamy, but the surrounding smaller towns like Hawthorne were just as guilty, if not more, for the horrific witch trials. Over the years, the people of Hawthorne have done their best to cut all ties with the witch trial hysteria.

  Tess told me that back in the 1600s, Salem County extended throughout most of the North Shore. After the witch trials ended, many towns changed their names and broke away from Salem out of shame. In the late 1800s, town officials of Hathorne decided to take the name of Hawthorne, wishing to be associated instead with the famed writer Nathanial Hawthorne (who himself chose to add the w to his name out of tremendous guilt over the vile deeds committed by his ancestors), as opposed to the
original namesake of the town, Justice John Hathorne, the bloodthirsty judge whose overzealous nature flamed the witch trial hysteria. And although many in Hawthorne continue to downplay their ancestors’ involvement in the infamous witch hunts, I think that the tendency to persecute still comes naturally to some, especially to girls like Kate Endicott. It doesn’t surprise me one bit that she is descended from the original ancestors of this horrid town. All of those girls are so proud of their heritage, their esteemed lineage. If I knew that my ancestors were monsters who tortured, persecuted, and killed innocent people, I’d guard it like a sore. A big, painful, wretched sore.

  Maddie flipped through a few pages of simple observations of the town. Daily recordings of getting the store ready, stories of Cordelia and Rebecca getting acquainted with the town. It wasn’t until Maddie flipped to the October entries that the writing became more telling.

  October 14th

  He knows—of course he knows. How could he not? He can read me better than Rebecca can at times. Scary. I’ll have to do something about all this. Just not now. Now I just want to be young and in love and happy. Why is that so hard? I’ve never betrayed anyone in my life. I’m not to blame for this. I refuse to take the blame. I am not going to take it anymore!

  October 18th

  Does he know what happened? Is he trying to make amends? I don’t know who to trust anymore. Mom told me that we wouldn’t fit in here. Who would want to? Except, of course, Abigail. Poor Maddie, she doesn’t see the snake pit she’s grown up in.

  Tess has known all along. Tried to shield us all. But I can see it. I have her gift, and it’s growing stronger every day.