Authors: V.C. Andrews
M
rs. March came into my room before anyone else arrived in the morning. I wasn't even out of bed. She was visibly upset.
“Was Kiera in here last night?” she asked.
“Yes.”
“I thought so. I heard her complaining to her father. Did she say terrible things to you? What did she say?”
“She said you were punishing her by having me live here.”
Mrs. March nodded. “She's right about that. Not that I want you to feel bad,” she added quickly. “But I don't want her to forget and ignore what a terrible thing she has done. Don't worry. She won't bother you or do you any harm. I'm so sorry. She snuck in here without my permission. I'm going to tell her father to speak with her.”
“Maybe I shouldn't be here,” I said. “Maybe it's only causing more trouble.”
“Oh, no, no, no. Don't you ever, ever, ever let that girl
make you feel bad or think such a thing. Of course you should be here. If you left, you'd only be making her feel good about what she did. You're doing both Donald and me a favor by being here. Sometimes I think that girl has no conscience whatsoever. I look at her and wonder how I gave birth to her. Alena was so different. No, don't you think about leaving. Dr. Milan will be here in a few hours. Let's just think about that for now, okay?”
“Okay.”
“Good. Do you want any help getting up and dressed?”
“I can do it.”
“I'll go see about your breakfast and talk to Donald about Kiera before he leaves the house. I'm so sorry.” She hurried out.
I rose and went to the closet to choose something to wear. I wondered how anyone could decide with all of these choices. How important had this been to Alena? I didn't want to keep thinking about being in her room, using her things, but at the same time, I couldn't help but be curious about her. Was she spoiled, too? Did she get along with Kiera? How could anyone? What did she think when she realized how sick she was, or did they keep the seriousness of her illness a secret from her until she was near the end of her life? Secrets were very comfortable living here. It seemed only natural for the Marches to lie to one another.
And yet, I thought, surely she must have felt very sick and knew because of all the things she couldn't do any longer that she was in danger of dying. Even a doctor like Dr. Milan couldn't keep the truth from peeking out of his eyes.
I realized, however, that death is not something someone so young thinks about very often and probably not until he or she hears about a relative or a friend dying. I didn't, not even when life was so difficult for Mama and me. Somehow I always thought we'd get through it. Something would happen to change things and make us healthy and whole again. Even when I saw her get hit just before me on the highway, I still believed it would be all right. The ambulances were there. Someone was helping Mama.
And when that woman told me she was dead, that she had been killed instantly, it didn't set right in. I kept hoping and thinking that there was a mistake. Alena must have been the same way when she was getting sicker and sicker. She must have thought the doctor would make her better. One morning, she'd wake up and it would be all over, just the way a cold ends. The younger you were, the more of a surprise death had to be, I thought.
After sifting through some of the clothes, I chose a light-blue skirt and the blouse that went with it. Everything fit well, but the more comfortable I was in Alena's things, the more frightened it made me feel. I almost took the blouse and skirt off and put on what I had worn the day before, but before I could do that, Mrs. Duval brought me my breakfast.
“What time does everyone else eat breakfast?” I asked her.
“Mr. March is the first down always. He eats very early and leaves for work before Kiera even gets up and dressed most of the time, especially during the summer months. Sometimes, like today, he takes a little longer, and Mrs. March joins him. On weekends, it's usually different.
Everyone sleeps in. You look very nice this morning,” she added. She smiled and left.
About an hour after I finished breakfast, Mrs. March returned with Dr. Milan. He examined me and said that one of the nurses at his office would stop by with a crutch for me to use.
“She'll show you how to use it so you can keep the pressure off that leg for a while.”
“How long will I have to be in the cast?” I asked.
“We'll see. I'll get you over to my office for X-rays in three or four weeks. In the meantime,” he said, looking around the suite, “you'll be fine. It doesn't look like you'll be lacking anything.”
Nothing except love and a family,
I thought. He and Mrs. March left together. I could hear them whispering in the hallway until they went down the stairs. Immediately afterward, Rosie came up to get my tray and dishes. She asked me how I was feeling and told me she thought Kiera was jealous.
“Jealous of what? Me?”
She laughed. “Well, she claims she's not feeling well and locked herself in her room. Mrs. Duval had to bring her breakfast, too, but it ain't the first time, and I'm sure it ain't the last.”
After she left, I wheeled myself to the door and looked down the hallway. No one was there, so I continued a little until I heard music and laughter behind the door of the room next to mine. I imagined it was Kiera's and paused to see if I could hear anyone else. Perhaps one of her friends was already there. Whether she heard me or could see
through some keyhole, I don't know, but suddenly, the door was thrust open and she was standing there in her bathrobe. She was holding a portable phone in her right hand. It happened so quickly that I flinched and wheeled myself back a few feet.
“What are you doing, spying on me?” she asked.
“No. I didn't even know this was your room.”
“Right. You don't know anything. Just keep out of my face,” she said, and slammed the door. I heard her tell whoever was on the phone that one of the annoying maids had come to check on something.
Still trembling, I wheeled myself back to my room and closed the door. Just knowing that Kiera was so close made me nervous. She had already shown that she could burst in on me anytime, even when I was sleeping. I doubted that Mrs. March could stop her.
Moments later, I heard someone else coming, and I was happy to see that it was Mrs. Kepler. She could see I was upset.
“Are you feeling all right? I know the doctor was just here.”
“I'm fine,” I said, but I didn't say anything more. What good would it do to tell her about Kiera March?
“Would you rather we work outside?”
“No.”
“You're probably right. There are too many distractions out there. Let's get to it,” she said.
She went through the history and science workbooks with me and set out the books she wanted me to read. Finally, she paused and said, “You do look worried, Sasha. I
hope I didn't lead you to believe that you must finish all of this in a week.”
“I'm okay,” I said.
She still looked suspicious but continued with her explanations and instructions. I tried to pay attention as well as I had done the day before, but I couldn't help anticipating Kiera March again. Perhaps she would come in to interrupt us and mock me. I could see that Mrs. Kepler wasn't pleased with my responses.
Mrs. March stopped by to see if Mrs. Kepler was going to stay for lunch. She told her she thought we had done enough for the day. From the looks they were giving each other, I knew Mrs. Kepler wanted to speak with her privately. She said she would return about the same time tomorrow and then left with Mrs. March. I hoped she wasn't going to tell her that it was too soon to have me do the schoolwork. I was happy to have it, to have something that would take my mind off everything. In fact, by the time Mrs. Duval stopped in with my lunch, I had already done everything Mrs. Kepler had assigned for the day. I knew that would both surprise and please Mrs. March.
When she returned, because of what Mrs. Kepler had obviously told her, she wanted to know if she was rushing me too fast. “With your recuperation and all that's happened, maybe we should wait on your schooling and ⦔
“Oh, no. I like it,” I said. “I've done everything she left for me to do.”
“Really? Well, that's wonderful, Sasha. She'll be pleased. If you're not too tired, I thought I'd replace Mrs. Caro today
and take you out. I'll wheel you along and show you more of the property. Would you like that?”
“Yes.”
“Good. I'll be back in about a half hour.”
Almost as soon as her footsteps died away down the hall, Kiera came into my bedroom. I had my back to the door and was looking through the science workbook. I caught her reflection in the window and held my breath. She was still in her robe, but her image appeared so silently that she looked more like a ghost. I turned around slowly.
“So, Mother is going to show you the grounds. How sweet,” she said, coming into the sitting room.
How did she know that? Did Mrs. March tell her, or could she hear what went on in my bedroom? Was she always going to be spying on me? She looked at my workbooks and the books on the table, tossing them aside as if they were someone's garbage.
“And you're getting private tutoring, too. I'm sure you need it.” She stopped and put her hands on her hips. “So, what, do you expect to live here forever?”
“I don't expect anything.”
“Yeah, right.” She continued to inspect everything in the suite and saw my new iPod. She picked it up. “What's this? My mother bought you this? This is better than mine,” she said, and dropped it. “Oh, sorry. I hope it didn't break.” She didn't make an effort to see or to pick it up.
She continued to stroll through the suite.
“It's been some time since I've been in here for any length of time, actually. Mother kept it locked up, you know. She had it cleaned regularly but wasn't keen on
anyone else but the maid being in here. I see nothing has been changed for you.”
She wandered past the bed to open the closet.
“I heard she's been buying you some new clothes, too.” She turned to look at me more carefully. “But that's not new. That's one of Alena's outfits you're wearing. Aren't you ashamed to wear a dead girl's clothes? No,” she said before I could respond, “you were probably finding clothes in garbage heaps to wear.”
“I'm not doing anything your mother told me not to do.”
“I'll bet. You know, my father's not happy that you're here. They had a big fight about it. She tell you that?”
“No.”
“I wouldn't count on being here much longer.”
“I told you. I didn't ask to come here.”
“You won't ask to leave, either, but you will.”
I turned away from her. She returned to the sitting room and looked out the window.
“You know, I saw you watching us the other day. I didn't tell the others, because I didn't want anyone to know you were here. They'd have all sorts of stupid questions. It's embarrassing.”
“Embarrassing? I think what you did was more than embarrassing.”
“Aren't you smart. Anyway, did you get a good look at everything going on at the pool, a good look at all of my friends?”
I didn't answer.
“You'd better not be telling my mother about anything you saw out there. It's none of your business.”
“I don't tell on people,” I said. “I don't care what you do, anyway.”
“You don't tell on people? You told her I came into the bedroom last night, didn't you?”
“She knew you had come in, but don't worry. I won't tell her about what you and your friends did at the pool.”
“Probably jealous. You liked what you saw, though, didn't you? Ricky and Boyd and Tony? But I guess you've seen naked boys plenty of times in the streets, huh?”
“No.”
“You still a little virgin?”
“Now, that's none of your business,” I fired back.
She laughed. “I forgot you're a street kid,” she said. She said it as if she admired it.
“I'm not a street kid. We didn't want to be living on the street.”
“We all have to do things we don't want to do,” she replied. I waited to see what she meant, but she stopped talking, looked out the window, then turned and walked out of the bedroom quickly.
I felt like shouting something nasty after her but wheeled myself back to the table, picked up the iPod she had deliberately dropped, and looked at my workbook again. But it was harder than ever to concentrate on anything.
What am I doing here?
I wondered. Maybe I'd be better off in some orphanage after all. Maybe I'd be happy to have her father kick me out.
“Ready?” I heard Mrs. March ask. She returned wearing a different outfit and a wide-brim hat. “Don't laugh at my hat,” she said, seeing where my gaze went. “It's beautiful
out there, but I've got to be careful in the sun. When you're my age, it only makes you look older, makes wrinkles come faster.”
She stepped behind my wheelchair and started to turn me toward the door.
“When I was a young girl like you and like Kiera, I never thought about it. Now, when I think about all those days I spent on the beach without any protection, I shudder. How stupid we were. I tell Kiera that all the time, but does she listen? No.”
In the elevator, I wondered if she was going to ask me if Kiera had come into my bedroom again. She didn't, and I didn't tell her.
She smiled at me and nodded. “You're doing a lot better, I can tell, and Dr. Milan thinks so, too. Where you are when you recuperate can make a great deal of difference.”
Mrs. Caro had said something similar. Was everything anyone said to me planned?
The elevator opened, and she pushed me out and toward the French doors that opened to the patio Mrs. Caro had taken me to the day before.