Broken Wings (Broken Wings 1) - Page 61

I held my breath and looked from him to Mother darling and then back to him.

“How?”

“There is a special school for young girls who, shall we say, have exhausted all the traditional means of correcting their behavior, or rather, their misbehavior. Their parents are totally defeated, as is your mother.”

I glanced at her, and she shifted her eyes guiltily away.

“What sort of special school?”

“It’s a school run by a specialist in behavior modification, and for many, a school of last resort. Now before I go any further in my explanation, let me make clear to you that once you go there, you do not have the privilege of deciding you don’t want to be there. You’re there until it is decided you can return and behave in a reasonable manner, and you would still be on a term of strict probation. Should you attempt to escape or run away from this school, you would be immediately returned to court and sentenced to a real prison—sentenced, in your case, as an adult. It’s part of the agreement we will sign.”

“But how long am I at this school?”

“You can be there months; you can be there years. It’s entirely up to you. That’s the beauty of it, if we can say there is any beauty. You’re in control of your own destiny. In a real prison, you’re lucky to be in control of your own bowel movements,” he said, his lips taut, his eyes ice-cold.

“It’s just another school?”

“No, I’m not saying it’s just another school. It’s a special school. There are different rules, different activities. Its purpose is to change your behavior, change your miscreant ways, and make you a productive member of society. You sign a contract to turn yourself over to the school. Your mother signs as well,” he added, looking at her.

Something in her face told me she wasn’t happy to be doing it, even though Mr. Meriweather had made it sound like a way out of a horrible prison experience. It made my heart flutter.

“I don’t know,” I said.

“You can have a little while to discuss it with your mother. Then I have to inform the assistant district attorney, and together we will confer with the judge. This is the last breath of mercy you will find in this court,” he added, and rose. “One more thing. It’s normally very, very expensive to go to this special school. It’s privately run, but an anonymous benefactor has provided what we can best describe as scholarships for girls whose families cannot afford it, but who need it desperately nevertheless. That, for you, is another stroke of luck just when you need it the most.”

He looked at Mother darling.

“I’ll be back in a little while,” he said, and left us.

“What is this all about?” I asked.

“Just what he said. I didn’t even know it existed. Even though we said you would sign the statements, the judge was not persuaded to consider you a minor. The gun made all the difference. You’re headin‘ for some hard ti

me in a hard place with women who have done some terrible things and will see you as a ripe piece of fruit. Virgin fruit,” she added in practically a whisper.

“Do you know anything about the school?”

“Just what you heard.”

“Where is it?”

“I don’t know.”

“You don’t know? What do you mean, you don’t know?”

“They don’t want the parents to know where it is. They don’t want parents to change their minds and go fetch their children.”

“But what if I call you and tell you where I am?”

“You can’t call anyone, Robin.”

“But… that’s worse than jail, isn’t it? Don’t prisoners get the right to call people?”

“Not right away. I think you can call after a while. I don’t know everything.”

I stared at her.

“You don’t know anything, do you, and you don’t care. It’s a way to get rid of me. That’s all you know.”

Tags: V.C. Andrews Broken Wings Horror
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