“Good,” I said, and got up.

“Donald’s waiting for us in the parking lot. He’s leaving his car here. He wants us to go home together.”

I saw him standing by the car. He got in when he saw us and started the engine. I got into the rear quickly, and Mrs. March got in beside him. No one spoke for the longest time. I nearly fell asleep again, but when we reached the gate and it opened, Mr. March did not drive in. Instead, he turned to look at me.

“Thank you for what you said to Kiera in there, Sasha. You are a remarkable young lady after all. I apologize for the things I said to you.”

I didn’t know what to say. He was still staring at me, and we weren’t moving. The gate remained wide open, and the March mansion loomed ahead, many lights on. I imagined that Mrs. Duval and Mrs. Caro and the others were all waiting for news.

“Maybe Mrs. March was right,” he continued. “Maybe you are the daughter we lost. Maybe in an ironic and terribly painful way for us all, Kiera brought you here. I know this,” he said as he turned around to drive in. “You’re not leaving until you’re old enough to say good-bye and be on your own.”

Smiling, Mrs. March reached back for my hand. I took hers, and the three of us drove up the grand driveway to the waiting mansion.

And for the first time since I had arrived there, I felt that I was really coming home.

Epilogue

I had no idea what Kiera would be like when she came home from the hospital. Mrs. March said that when her husband told Kiera I was going to remain with them, she wasn’t upset.

“I wouldn’t tell you she was overjoyed with the news,” Mrs. March told me, “but she looked relieved. Right now, that might simply be because she’s not being blamed for something more. I don’t know. I always had trouble understanding Kiera and expect I will continue to have trouble. I’ll need your help.”

“We’ll have to help each other with that,” I said, and she laughed.

I was moved back into Alena’s suite. For me, it was like renewing an old friendship. I hadn’t realized how much the suite and everything in it had become part of me. I shared it with the memory of Alena, but I felt it was more mine now, too.

My schoolwork improved considerably over the next week. Mr. Denacio even took time out in instrumental class to have me demonstrate what real practice could do. What I enjoyed most was the expressions on the faces of my classmates. Why, they surely wondered, was I so buoyant and energetic, as well as happy, after all that had happened? They knew how much trouble Ricky and Kiera’s other friends were in because of what had happened to her. Perhaps they were friendlier to me because they were hungry for more details. Once I had felt as if I had celebrity status because I was friends with seniors and did things with seniors. Now I had it because I was simply an exciting person to get to know.

Of course, I gave them little information, but that just made them more determined to talk to me, be with me,

and invite me to their homes. It all made me feel much better about myself. Why, Lisa Dirk even told me I looked as if I was limping less and less.

On Friday, they brought Kiera home. She was still confined to bed rest. All of her meals were brought to her, which was nothing new to her, I guessed. When I arrived home, Mrs. March told me she was upstairs and getting better. She knew that because Kiera was complaining.

“However, I think she’s still a bit stunned,” she said. “Dr. Kindle said psychological problems often follow such an event, so I wouldn’t be upset about anything she might say or do right now.”

I knew she was trying to prepare me for anything Kiera might say or do to me, but I had a new sense of power and strength. I was no longer afraid of Kiera. Her friends had practically crawled underground. They were meek mice in school now. Ricky’s disposition remained unknown. If his parents hadn’t had money and influence, he wouldn’t even have been attending Pacifica. The few times I saw him, he said nothing to me, and I said nothing to him.

It was impossible to avoid seeing Kiera, so I thought it would be best if I simply went directly up to her suite. The door was open, and she was propped up on big pillows in her bed.

“How are you?” I asked.

She stared at me as if we had never met. “Terrible,” she finally replied. “They want me to stay in bed another three days or so. I haven’t been able to wash my hair, put on any makeup, or anything. Look at what I look like.”

“Look at what you almost did,” I told her.

“Another goody two-shoes.” She looked away and then back at me. “Deidre called me in the hospital and told me what was going on with Ricky. I heard he told you things.”

“He did.”

“Are you happy now?”

“More than I was last week, yes,” I said.

She smirked. “It looks like I’m going to have to live with you.”

“Looks like it.”

“Why would you want to stay here after all you went through? They’d probably give you lots of money and place you in a comfortable new home.”

Tags: V.C. Andrews Storms
Source: readsnovelonline.net