My Sweet Audrina (Audrina 1)

“Billie, shouting something at Sylvia. I thought she was telling Sylvia to leave her cart alone, but, as you know, Sylvia can’t seem to leave it alone. She wanted it—now she has it.”

When I looked again, Sylvia had disappeared. I ran to search the house and find her, as Vera called Papa’s office.

What had Sylvia done?

Breaking Through

Sylvia was nowhere to be found. Hysterical, I ran outside in the rain, searching for her. “You come out! Don’t try to hide! Sylvia, why did you do it? Did you shove Aunt Ellsbeth, too? Oh, Sylvia … I don’t want them to put you away, I don’t …”

I tripped and fell to the ground and just lay there crying, not caring anymore. No matter what I did, or how hard I tried, everything went wrong. What was wrong with me, with Whitefern, with Papa, with all of us? It was useless to try to find happiness. Whenever I had it just within my grasp, it slipped from my hand and shattered.

It just wasn’t fair what had happened to my mother, to my aunt, and now to Billie. I beat at the ground and screamed at God for being unmerciful. “Stop doing this to me!” I yelled. “You killed the First Audrina—are you trying to kill me, too, by killing all those I love?”

A small touch on my arm brought me back to myself. Through my tears I turned to see Sylvia above me, pleading with eyes that had focused again. “Aud … dreeen … naaa,” she said in her slow way.

I sat up and with relief pulled her into my arms. On the wet grass she slumped against me. “It’s all right,” I crooned, “I know you didn’t mean to hurt Billie.”

Gently I rocked her back and forth, thinking, despite myself, of her dislike for Billie and how she coveted that red cart. Several times she’d shone the colors the prisms made into my own eyes. An accident? Deliberately? Of course, whatever Sylvia had done, it had to be done without intent to kill. She’d shoved Billie off the cart, and when she had, both Billie and the cart had clattered down the stairs.

But not deliberately planned—for Sylvia couldn’t think ahead.

Sylvia started to speak, but speech didn’t come easily to her. As she struggled to say the right words, with the rain soaking us both to the skin, Arden came running to me.

“Audrina, Vera called. What’s wrong? What are the two of you doing out here in the rain?”

How could I tell him? Thank God Vera hadn’t made the effort. Death seemed as nothing to her, an everyday occurrence that made her only curious, not sad.

&nb

sp; “Let’s go inside, darling,” I said as he helped me to stand. Holding fast to Sylvia’s hand, I guided him to the side door and into the hall that led to the dining room. I stood and allowed him to dry my hair with a towel taken from the powder room behind him. I saw my pale reflection in the mirror.

“It’s your mother, Arden,” I said falteringly.

“What about my mother?” Immediately he was alarmed. He ran a nervous hand through his hair. “Audrina, what’s wrong?”

“Sylvia and I went down to the river … or at least I thought Sylvia was behind me …” I floundered, and then I had to let it gush out. “When I went back the storm had started. The front hall was dark. Something came crashing down the stairs. I stumbled on whatever it was. Then, Arden … it was … it was … Billie. She fell down the stairs. The cart came with her. Arden … it’s just like what happened to Aunt Ellsbeth …”

“But, but—” he said, dropping the towel and searching my eyes. “Your aunt died … Audrina … Mom … she’s not … not dead?”

My arms went around him as I pressed my cheek against his. “I’m so sorry, Arden, so sorry to tell you. She’s gone, Arden. She fell all the way to the bottom. I think she broke her neck just as my aunt did …”

His face crumpled. His eyes went void with pain he didn’t want me to see, then he pressed his face into my hair and cried.

Just then a loud roar jolted us both. Papa’s voice screamed at Vera, “What are you saying? Billie can’t be dead!” His heavy steps came running down the hall. “Billie can’t have fallen down the stairs! Things like that don’t happen twice.”

“They do when Sylvia is on the loose!” yelled Vera, limping to where we were. “She wanted Billie’s red cart—and shoved her so she fell down the stairs. I was in the bathtub. I heard the screams.”

“Then how do you know it was Sylvia?” I yelled. “Can you see through walls, Vera?”

In the foyer, Papa knelt beside Billie’s still form and tenderly took her into his arms. Her dark head lolled backward, much in the way Sylvia’s did. “I was having artificial legs made,” he said in a flat way. “She told me she couldn’t ever use them to walk, but I thought she could have pretty legs just for showing off when I took her into town. They would have fit over the stumps and looked good. Then she wouldn’t have had to wear all those long, hot dresses to … oh, oh, oh …” He sobbed. Carefully he put Billie back on the floor, and then he jumped to his feet and made a grab to seize Sylvia. “Damn you!” he screamed as he came at me to get to her.

I shoved Sylvia behind me and heard her whimper of fright. “Wait a minute, Papa. Sylvia was with me all the time. We went down to the river, and when we came back, Billie was dead on the floor.”

“But Vera just said—” he shouted, then stopped, looking from me to Vera.

“You know what Vera is, Papa. She lies.”

“I did not lie!” yelled Vera, her pale face very white, her apricot hair flaming like wildfire. “I heard Billie yelling at Sylvia, and then I heard Billie scream. Audrina is the liar!”