by Jo Holloway
“I’ve been researching what I can, but this family has serious resources,” Wes said. His hand tapped the arm of his chair. “They avoid publicity. I had more luck with the mom, but it’s all guesswork right now, piecing together bits of articles that mention seeing her or other family members somewhere they weren’t expected. Most of it is really innocent stuff, just tiny mentions in unrelated articles. It’s like everything major gets taken down and buried. I think we should follow him.” He was back to the most direct methods of doing things again.
“Follow Rhys?” Cara’s brow creased, and she wet her lips. “First, terrible idea. Second, none of us drive yet. I won’t turn sixteen for another seven weeks, and by then, we’ll be back in school anyway.”
“You’re thinking of asking Mak to drive us, aren’t you?” Jory squinted at his friend.
“Just me, not us. I don’t want to have to explain. He knows you’ll talk more than I will,” Wes replied to Jory. “If you’re there, he’ll grill you. If it’s just me, he might go along for the right bribe, like that new video game he wants.”
Her shoulders tensed forward. “Let’s keep that as a last resort, please?” Involving even more people felt like a bad idea. Her uncle and the three of them were already quite a few people. She was pretty sure she couldn’t ask Josh to drive them around following one of the Whaltons. Not after the lectures they heard every time they brought them up.
“So what about the sister, then?” Tomyx asked.
“The sister is just gone. Her name’s Olivia. She’s in stuff with the family up until a year and a half ago, when she and Rhys were both at Scovell Academy. After that, there’s not a single thing about her anywhere on the internet. I’d say she died, but there would be records.” Wes pulled out his phone again and started scrolling. “This is the last photo of her I could find. It’s from the hospital’s big staff Christmas party two years ago.”
He passed the phone to Jory, who stared at the photo for a long time. His grin softened into a sweeter smile while he focused. He looked a little older that way. Maybe he just looked less goofy without the dumb grin. Cara was smiling, too, by the time he passed the phone on to her.
“She’s pretty,” Jory said, still smiling.
“Seriously, Sunshine?” Cara joked. “Do you think every girl is pretty?”
She took the phone and checked the photo for herself. Her eyes went to Rhys first, drawn in by the face she’d thought was cute back at the diner over a year ago. His hair was styled in the photo. It didn’t suit him as much as his natural, soft look. He smiled at the camera in front of a sparkling Christmas tree. His face was far less strained than the one she recalled from the alley, and even from the diner. It wasn’t nearly as sad as it had been in the dream . . .
The girl—right, she was supposed to be looking at the girl. She turned her attention to the girl standing beside him in the photo, also smiling. There’d been something familiar about her even before she’d focused on her image properly. Long, auburn hair framed an oval face—Cara stood up in shock. The lawn chair went sprawling behind her.
Wes and Jory jolted forward at her outburst.
“What?”
“What is it?”
The girl in the photo . . .
Another photo. In a silver frame.
On a long, ornate dresser. In a blue room that made Cara feel like she was drowning.
Images, both real and dreamed, flooded through her mind. The girl on the screen in her hand was the same girl from the silver-framed photo in the mansion—the one who stood with her foot up behind her on a lamppost, laughing at her own efforts to look sophisticated. And that girl, the same one, was currently sitting motionless and expressionless in the psych ward at the hospital.
Pulling her face together, Cara handed Wes back his phone. She smoothed down her hair with one hand and picked up her chair to sit again. Both boys were still staring at her.
“Sorry,” she said. “There was a bee.”
Jory’s mouth hung open. “A bee?”
“Uh huh.” She brushed her hands over her hips again and sat.
Wes eyed her. His head dipped over his phone. “Did something—”
“Nope. Just scared of bees.” She plastered a smirk on her face, and Jory sat back. Wes studied his phone one more time and then slid it back into his pocket with a side-eyed glance in her direction.
Jenyx stayed silent until they left with the excuse that she had promised her mom she would arrange to do some volunteering. She walked her bike along the baking hot sidewalk, needing time to think on the way home. Jenner followed beside her, sticking to the cooler grass.
“There was no bee,” Jenyx said once they rounded the corner and crossed the street.
“No. There wasn’t,” Cara agreed. “I need a minute to think. I want to talk to you about it before I talk to them. Just give me a minute first.”
Her stomach was a solid lump trying to sink through the rest of her body. She had chills in spite of the sweltering heat. It wasn’t his mom who Rhys had been going to see at the hospital yesterday. It was his sister.
What an awful situation. First his mother had some sort of psychotic break, and then his sister ended up the same way, or similar. The family must be cursed. What about Rhys, then? Was he some sort of psychopath? Was that why he was trying to kill Pyx and spending time terrorizing animals? She remembered Wes saying something about hunting grounds, like serial killers. She shuddered.
A horrifying thought struck her. What if he had done something to make his mom and sister both snap? Somehow, she couldn’t see it. People did awful things to each other; it was true. But that first feeling she’d had about him—that good feeling from the diner—stopped her from imagining the worst. She knew a feeling didn’t mean anything, but she couldn’t tie any of the worst things to the image of the boy in her head, even if there was something wrong with him. She almost felt sorry for him.
“Okay, Jenyx, I have stuff to tell you. I need you to listen first, okay?”
“Of course, child.”
“You know we went to see Mom’s friend Lydia in the hospital. So . . . she’s in a psychiatric ward there for people will mental illnesses. While I was there, I saw Olivia Whalton.” She nodded at his surprise. “Yeah, it’s bad. I didn’t know who she was at the time, obviously, but I recognized her in the photo just now. It made me remember a picture of her I saw on the dresser in what must have been Rhys’s bedroom at Whalton Manor. That’s what made it click.” For some reason, her pulse fluttered to think she had been in his bedroom, and she raised a hand to rub the side of her neck.
Get a grip, Cara. Evil can be cute. Get over it.
Her jaw flexed, and she forced herself to take a deep breath. “Anyway, Rhys showed up. Don’t worry, he didn’t see me, but he must have been visiting, so I’m sure I’m right about her being Olivia. The thing is, I can’t stop thinking about her. While I was there, I had this sick, desperate feeling, like I was trapped. I can’t get over it. I feel connected to her somehow. So I want to go back to see her. And I want you to help me.”
Jenner raised his face to meet her gaze, and the green gleam passed across his eyes.
“I will help you in any way I can, always. What are you thinking?”
“Well, I wasn’t lying when I said I promised Mom about the volunteering thing. You probably remember when we first got Jenner and we went to those training classes,” Cara started.
“Yes, I remember,” Jenyx said with the laughing tone he occasionally had.
“Sure. Now I know you were there, which explains why he always did exactly what we wanted the first time. We thought we were expert dog trainers.” She smirked. The heaviness in her legs after telling him about Olivia started to recede. “But the training people were so impressed with Jenner that they told us we should certify him as a therapy dog, and we did. Mom wanted it to be my thing, but I never followed through.”
“You want to do so now, I suspect.”
“I do. Sp
ecifically, I want us to volunteer at the hospital, which is what I told Mom already. But I was thinking about little kids or cancer patients at first.”
“And now you are thinking we should visit the psychiatric patients.”
“Exactly.”
It was exactly what she wanted to do, but her stomach turned to stone again at the thought. Yesterday, she would have said she never wanted to go back to that place, never wanted the feeling she got from seeing Olivia ever again. Now she was planning to go again, on purpose. She swallowed hard and pulled out her phone to look up the number for the therapy dog organization. When she hung up, she took a deep breath and climbed on her bike for the last mile home. Even if she hated it and didn’t want to go back again after the first visit, the worst that could happen was Jenner would make a few people happy. Even if she couldn’t handle the feeling around Olivia, she would know she’d tried. Then she would tell the boys about all of it.
And if she ran into Rhys while she was there . . . well, he probably wouldn’t recognize her from the diner. There was no reason for him to have really noticed her, let alone remember her.
CHAPTER 11
Get A Grip
THE FOLLOWING AFTERNOON, Cara arrived at the hospital at the agreed upon time. The therapy dog organization had set everything up for her, but because she wanted to volunteer in the psychiatric unit, the hospital required her to do an orientation first without her dog. She was alone without the emotional support of Jenner or the potentially more helpful support of Jenyx. She was going to have to do this part herself.
Straightening her shoulders, she made her way to the desk to sign in. She’d left everything but her cell phone at home, so she didn’t have much to check in with the staff. The nursing assistant tasked with showing her around explained the rules as she led the way down the hall, smiling back over her shoulder as she spoke.
“We’re always happy to have volunteers,” she said. “You’d be surprised how many people are nervous to come in here.”
Cara didn’t think she would be surprised. She was a little scared herself. Her brief interaction with patients during her previous visit had been fine, but the feelings from Lydia and Olivia still lurked in the back of her mind. They passed the open door to Lydia’s room, but none of the feelings returned. She glanced inside to see an empty bed in an empty room. Lydia must have been discharged.
“There’s nothing at all to be scared of,” the woman said. They stopped just inside the same lounge area she’d been to before.
“There’s always staff around, so you’ll never need to worry.”
Cara’s eye was drawn to the chairs by the windows where Olivia sat in almost the exact same spot as she had on Monday afternoon.
“Do you know someone here? Because we’ll have to—”
“No, I don’t know her or anyone here. Sorry, she just looks my age,” Cara said.
“Yes, we have several patients your age in this area. Libby is special, though. She’s a favorite of all the staff because she’s been here so long. For some reason, she’s not being transferred.”
“Libby?”
“Um hmm, short for Elizabeth, I think? We all call her Libby.”
Seeing her again, Cara was positive the girl was Olivia Whalton. But why would the hospital be calling her Libby?
“What’s her last name?” she asked.
“Sorry, no last names. No medical info, either. Just what you need to know to be in here.”
“Oh, sure. That makes sense.” Cara stuffed her fists into the pockets of her shorts. Her gold eyes darted back across the room to rest on the oval face above the girl’s stiff shoulders.
Wes had said Olivia disappeared without a trace. Had the family put her in here under a fake name to hide her away? They had enough money to make a lot of problems disappear, but did that extend to hiding their mentally ill family members? It must.
Watching Olivia now, Cara got the same feeling of desperation creeping through her as she had on Monday. Her ribs constricted, imprisoning her lungs so her breaths grew shallow. She wasn’t sure she could actually do this. Maybe this wasn’t the best idea. Maybe Wes or Jory could come up with another way to figure out what was going on without having to come back here. Something connected her to this girl in distress, though. She needed to find out what the feeling was about and what was going on with Olivia Whalton, or “Libby.”
She forced her shoulders down and followed the woman out of the room.
“So you’re all set for tomorrow. Any other questions before you go, Cara?” The nursing assistant walked her out the front doors when she was done with her orientation. “I’m working tomorrow, too, so I’ll see you then. Can’t wait to meet your dog.” She smiled a goodbye, and Cara gave a little wave back over her shoulder as she left.
The tightness in her chest and the foggy feeling in her mind didn’t leave her until she was nearly home.
SHE TURNED UP THE ROAD to the hospital with Jenner the following day. “I don’t know what it is, Jenyx. I really don’t. I’ve never felt that awful trapped feeling. Not in real life. But it’s the same as being frozen in place with no voice to scream when a monster is chasing you in a nightmare. Except here, I could walk out any time. I could scream if I needed to, so why do I feel like that around her?”
“Are you sure you wish to return there, child? We can find another way.” Jenner’s sweet face looked up at her from the end of the leash while Jenyx spoke.
“I’m sure. I thought about chickening out last night. Even a hot shower didn’t take away the chill I had after that visit. But I can’t avoid it. It’s almost like the mansion. I have to go back. Something is pulling me back.”
“If you change your mind, we can leave anytime. I will be beside you the whole time, Cara.”
Her throat tightened at his words of support, but she couldn’t answer since they were approaching the hospital doors. She smiled down at her dog. His little red volunteer vest was adorable, and she readied herself with a quick breath through her nose.
Cara could tell Jenyx was calming Jenner to make sure he’d be an ideal therapy dog. The calmness washed through her too. They signed in at the desk with the same woman from the previous day.
“I can walk down the hall with you,” she said, rising from the desk to join Cara. “Hello there. What did you say his name was again?” She reached down to pet Jenner, who obliged by leaning into her hand.
“Jenner,” Cara replied. They strode down the hall toward the bright, sunlit room.
“I talked to the nurse this morning, and she thinks Libby would be a great patient to start with. She won’t speak or move much, but she will sometimes obey commands, so she might be willing to try petting the dog. It would be great to see if it helps her relax at all.”
Cara’s throat went dry at the chance to visit with Olivia. She’d been expecting to observe the girl from a little farther away at first. Faint nausea began to win against the calm she was trying to hold on to.
She swallowed. “Okay, sure.”
They approached Olivia’s chair, the same one she’d been in yesterday. Today, the girl’s arms were in her lap, but her hands still formed fists, and her tense body swayed ever so slightly, eyes staring toward the door. She didn’t turn to look at Cara or Jenner as they approached. Her face remained a perfect mask, devoid of emotion.
“Hi, Libby. You have a visitor. This is Cara and her dog, Jenner.” The woman turned to Cara as though making an ordinary introduction between two people on the street and urged her closer. “I’ll leave you with her, but there are people around, so just say something if you need any help. You’ll be fine, though. Sit with her, and we’ll see what she feels like doing.”
Cara stared, and Jenner tugged the leash in her hand to encourage her.
“Oh, don’t worry. It’s normal for her to sit like that. Nothing to worry about.”
The girl’s rigid position had not been the cause of her hesitation. Olivia’s eyes had flickered to her face, and
the trapped feeling intensified so much, Cara actually couldn’t make her feet move for a moment. It really was like a nightmare now. She couldn’t understand it. Sure, she felt bad for the girl’s illness, but it wasn’t like it scared or repulsed her. So what was this feeling about, and where was it coming from?
Finally, she managed to take a step forward and sat on the edge of the chair next to Olivia. The nursing assistant walked away, leaving them alone. Jenner—maybe with the urging of Jenyx, but Cara thought mostly on his own—bumped Olivia’s hands with his nose and then rested his head on her knee the way he did to Cara when she was upset.
Olivia’s hand unclenched once and then curled back into a fist.
“You can pet him if you want,” Cara said gently.
Slowly, Olivia’s hand unclenched again and reached forward. The corners of Cara’s mouth twitched up at the small success. Some of the tightness in her lungs eased. Maybe this would actually be helpful for this poor girl. Now if only she could understand what was going on with her own feelings.
Olivia slowly stroked the top of Jenner’s head. Her body stayed rigid, not relaxing, but the desperate feeling in Cara lessened by a few degrees. Was she reading this girl’s mind? It was so strange. Olivia’s eyes ticked past her toward the door. Was she trying to tell her something?
Cara moved to crouch in front of her so Olivia could see her face if she wanted to look her in the eye. Her blank face said nothing, but her gaze held Cara’s. Maybe that wasn’t what she wanted after all, because Cara’s chest started to tighten again. It was becoming harder to take a full breath.
Jenner withdrew his head from under Olivia's hand and shook it. Before Cara could stand up again, Jenyx spoke in her mind.
“You were right to be worried about this poor child. You sense her,” he said. “I can see it on your face. I am certain there is a Pyx present here. The feeling is more faint than I have ever experienced, yet it feels close.”