Not only did she sound like Mother, she even wore Mother’s expression. They did look so much alike. She didn’t wait for my reply. She continued to guide Daddy down the hallway and turned him into the bedroom as if he had forgotten where it was and was going to walk past it. I stood there until I heard her close the door.
For a moment, it felt as if all the air had gone out of our house and I was suffocating. Images of both Daddy and Mother at the hospital and gruesome, sad thoughts were spinning in my merry-go-round brain. I had to hold on to the railing until the nausea and dizziness passed. Eve
ry face in every ancestral painting hanging on the walls was glaring down angrily at me. At least, that was how it seemed to me. The historical family was upset and disappointed. An heir had been lost, a Heavenstone had been discarded like just so much medical waste. Whatever blessings and protection the spirits had given us would be taken away. We were unworthy of their royal support. This was only the beginning of our downfall.
I fled from those looks of condemnation, imagined or otherwise, as I fled from the tragedy that had just unfolded.
After quickly closing my door, I slipped back under my blanket and stared into the darkness. Would Daddy, the strength and power of our family, be so broken and inconsolable that he would be unable to continue? I agreed with Cassie that Uncle Perry could not step into Daddy’s shoes. I should have been worrying solely about him and about Mother, but oddly, what I thought about was how pleased all those at school who were jealous of me would be, how pleased those who were frustrated by my not groveling for their friendship would be. I hated the thought of returning to school once everyone had found out that something so terrible had happened to the Heavenstones.
How could I be thinking of myself when Daddy was suffering so and Mother was too weak and sick to speak to him? Look at how concerned and caring Cassie was, how eager, and strong enough to be there for Daddy when he needed support the most. I felt so inadequate being sent to my room. Did everyone still see me as a little girl, inconsequential, just another teenager who still had jelly beans for a brain? In their minds, I wasn’t yet capable of being or acting mature enough to handle such a crisis. I had to be protected like a child.
When I thought about how happy Mother and Daddy had been when they had learned she was carrying a boy and Daddy would have his Asa, I broke into a fit of hysterical sobbing. It seemed it would never end. I tried to get hold of myself, but the more I tried, the harder I sobbed. Finally, exhausted, out of breath, my chest aching, I smothered my face in the pillow and forced myself to stop.
I know I slept on and off, twice waking to what sounded like Cassie crying in the hallway. I was too tired and terrified to get up to see, and the crying stopped. I hoped it was a dream. I had never seen Cassie cry. I had seen her have a tantrum, but never cry or whine. Just the thought of her doing that frightened me. What more terrible thing could happen to us?
I didn’t want to get up in the morning, and I hated the thought of going to school. I hoped Daddy would want me to stay home. Maybe all of us would go to see Mother and try to cheer her up. That would be more important than my going to school and being a zombie in my classes. I wouldn’t hear anything or learn anything, anyway.
Despite the hour, it was deathly quiet in the house. I rose and dressed as quickly as I could, more out of curiosity than anything else. I imagined Cassie would be preparing Daddy’s breakfast by now. Maybe he was up already and downstairs. I just hadn’t heard them. I rushed out and down to see, but when I stepped into the kitchen, I saw nothing had been done. Cassie had not been there this morning, and Daddy wasn’t at the table, either. Now worried as much as curious, I hurried back upstairs. I practically ran to Cassie’s room, knocked softly, and when I heard nothing, I opened the door to see what she was doing.
She wasn’t there.
It looked as if she hadn’t been there all night. The bed was still made the perfect Cassie way, and no head had creased her pillows.
What was going on? Could it be that Daddy had been called back to the hospital and Cassie had gone with him? They hadn’t wanted to wake me up? What did this mean? Had something more happened to Mother? This time, I walked very slowly down the hallway to Daddy and Mother’s bedroom, terrified of what new horror I would learn of. I stood outside the door, listening for the sounds of his getting up, but I heard nothing, so I knocked softly on the door and waited.
I was surprised to discover the door had been locked. I listened and knocked again, only a little harder, louder. Finally, I heard the lock being opened. Cassie stood there looking out at me sleepily. She ground her eyes with her small fists and straightened her shoulders. She was wearing what she had been wearing the night before.
“What is it, Semantha?”
“How’s Daddy? Why are you still here? Why aren’t you fixing him breakfast?”
“Couldn’t you do something yourself?” she snapped back at me. “Would it have been so terrible for you to fix us both breakfast and bring it up here?”
“I didn’t know you were still in here, Cassie.”
“Of course, I’m still in here. I had to stay with him all night. He needed me.”
She looked back at Daddy, who was fast asleep.
“I talked him into taking one of Mother’s sleeping pills, and it finally took effect, so keep your voice down.”
She stepped out and closed the door softly behind her.
“I didn’t get much sleep myself,” she said. “Forget about school today. Neither of us is going.”
“Good.”
“I have to shower, change. In the meantime, you prepare the coffee. We’ll see if we can get him to eat something. I’ll be down in a little while. Go on,” she said, waving her hand toward the stairway.
“What about Mother?”
“What about her?”
“Have we heard anything?”
“No.”
“I … thought I heard you in the hallway last night … crying.”