Shattered Memories (The Mirror Sisters 3) - Page 98

“Her door was closed, so I didn’t bother her,” I said.

“Yes, well, I’m sure it was exhausting, all the excitement of being home again.” She looked at Irene, who nodded. “Irene’s leaving today, you know,” Mother said.

“Oh, today? I thought you were leaving Sunday.”

“No, dear. I have to catch up on some things, and then I’m thinking I’ll take a bit of a vacation.” She smiled at Mother. “My first in quite a while. I’m going to visit my older sister in Tampa, Florida. She’s a widow, and her only child, a daughter, lives in Hong Kong. She married an Asian businessman.”

I got myself some coffee and sat at the table.

“Do you want some eggs?” Mother asked.

“I’m going to have to work up an appetite after all I ate last night,” I said.

Mother nodded, but I saw her attention was fixed on listening for signs of Haylee getting up. “It doesn’t seem fair or even sensible to let that girl come home for only one night,” she said. “Maybe it will do more damage than good.”

“They have a protocol they have to follow,” Irene said. “Things will progress faster from this, I’m sure.” She patted Mother’s hand.

“Well, at least I can make a turkey sandwich for her to take,” Mother said, standing up. “Maybe you should go check on her, Kaylee. If she’s still sleeping, let her be. She might be up but so sad she has to leave that she’s delaying it.”

I nodded and rose. “Why don’t you and I go to dinner tonight, Mother?” I said. “You’ve done enough in the kitchen. We can go for pizza or something Italian like we used to.”

“Like we all used to,” she said, her words drifting with the memories. Then she smiled. “Yes, that might be a good idea. Drive away the blues.” She went into the kitchen to put together a take-away package for Haylee.

Irene smiled at me. “You’re wonderful with her, Kaylee. It will be fine,” she said. “You’ll see. She’s stronger now than you think.”

“I hope so,” I said.

I was thinking of what it was going to be like for my mother when I left, too. She would have to be strong to live alone until one of us returned. There were too many memories floating about for me. I couldn’t imagine what her nights would be like for her, actually for all parents when their children left for college and a start to their own independent lives. It couldn’t be all that different from what my mother faced. Loneliness was loneliness, no matter what mask it wore.

Haylee’s bedroom door was still shut. I wa

ited, listening, and then, hearing nothing, I tapped gently on it.

“Haylee?”

I tapped again and called again, and then I opened the door. For a long moment, I stood there gaping like someone too shocked to speak. Her bed looked just the way it had when I left her. Moving quickly, I checked her bathroom and then stood there trying to make sense of it. Had she gone down without any of us realizing it? Was she downstairs now? Just to be sure, I went to look in my room, my bathroom, Mother’s room, and her bathroom. I returned to Haylee’s room and checked for her small suitcase. It was nowhere. A surge of heat like molten lava flowed through my veins. It can’t be, I told myself.

Then I hurried down the stairs and found Mother and Irene still seated at the kitchenette table. They looked up sharply.

“Where’s Haylee?” Mother asked. “Is she still asleep?”

“She’s not there,” I said. The concept didn’t register on either of their faces. “She’s not anywhere upstairs. Did you hear her come down?”

Irene shook her head.

I went into all the rooms downstairs, calling for Haylee as I searched, and then returned to the kitchenette. Both were standing now.

“Her bag is gone, too,” I said. “The small suitcase that she had with her.”

“I don’t understand,” Mother said. “Did your father come here very, very early?”

Without answering, I went to the front door and stepped out to look up and down our street. Then I shouted for her. Irene came up behind me, so I turned to her.

“She didn’t use her bed last night,” I said. “She must have left after we were all asleep.”

“Oh, dear,” Irene said, bringing her hands to her cheeks. “We have to call your father.”

I nodded and rushed to the phone.

Tags: V.C. Andrews The Mirror Sisters Suspense
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