Cursed

Page 10

A string of curses erupted. Behind my head, the wall trembled. I jumped back, staring at the wall. It writhed like a snake for a second, then stilled. Plumes of plaster floated down from where the wall met the ceiling.
“Hayden, don’t!” Cromwell ordered sharply. “She stays for now. It’s done, and I refuse to continue to argue it. And Hayden, stay away from her.”
Someone snorted loudly. I’d put my bets on Gabriel.
“I know you think you can help her,” Cromwell said. “And I know you want to help her, but I won’t have you risking your life for her. You have no experience with a gift like that. I know what will happen.”
“Father—”
“I won’t lose everything I have worked for—I won’t lose you for anyone. If you push this, then I will remove her from this house.”
Out of the stark silence that followed Cromwell’s warning, Hayden finally spoke, “That won’t be necessary, Father.”
Wishing I hadn’t eavesdropped, I pushed away from the wall. My heart thundered in my chest as I crept down the hall, feeling sick to my stomach. What was this place called the “Facility,” and did he really think I’d let him turn me over to them?
I roamed the many rooms until I stumbled upon my sister and two people I hadn’t seen yet. They looked so much alike I knew they must be siblings.
The guy was handsome in a cold, methodical way, like he’d been chiseled out of stone and someone had forgotten to give him a touch of warmth. He didn’t look up, although he stiffened when I entered the room.
The girl was playing dolls with Olivia. She was stunning, with black hair, bright green eyes, high cheekbones, flawless skin, lush red lips, and a body I’d kill for. She was kind of girl that I wanted to look like and knew I never would.
Olivia shot to her feet once she spotted me in the doorway, screeching my name loud enough to make me cringe.
The guy glanced up from the book he was reading. His stare wasn’t hostile, but I wouldn’t call it friendly. The girl, on the other hand, stood and motioned to the guy. They left without saying a word to me.
Sitting down beside Olivia, I tried to ignore their reaction to me. I picked up one of the dolls and realized it was the one Olivia had been whining about for weeks.
“Emmie? Did you know that Parker and Phoebe are twins?” She pointed at the door the siblings had used. “I like the people here.”
“You do?” I made the doll walk over to hers.
She bounced her head up and down. “And Liz is nice. She plays dolls with me when Mommy is sleeping.”
“Who’s Liz?”
“She lives here.”
I dropped the doll on the floor, irate by the idea of some stranger buddying up with Olivia. “Has Liz been with you since you got here?”
“Yes. She came to the school when we left home and got me a Happy Meal.” She picked up my doll.
Happy Meals—the unofficial way to a child’s heart. How devious of this Ms. Liz.
“Everyone is nice,” she went on, dancing the dolls between us, “to me and Mommy.”
Hearing that just pissed me off, and I knew it was stupid, that I should feel relief that everyone was so damn nice to Olivia. I stood, scanning the huge room for a window to throw open or break.
“Don’t you like it here, Emmie?”
“It’s great.” I frowned down at her bowed head. “But this isn’t our home, Olivia.”
“Ms. Liz said it was our home now.”
Oh, did she? I was really starting to dislike this woman.
“And Emmie… I like it here,” she said in a small, tentative voice.
Of course Olivia liked it here. All the toys in the world to play with, and Liz, who could pick her up and hold her hand.
She dropped the dolls. “I wanna stay here.”
I kicked one of the dolls, sending it clear across the room. It hit the wall and the head fell off in the process. “We can’t stay.” My stomach turned. “This isn’t our home.”
Olivia watched me, eyes wide and lips trembling. “But I like it here.”
“I know.” I pulled a hair tie off my wrist and yanked my hair up into a messy bun. The back of my neck felt damp. So did my forehead. “But these people are strangers, Olivia. We can’t trust them.”
“I trust Ms. Liz.” She climbed to her feet, her hands balling into little fists. “They’re nice to me. They said I’m gifted—”
“I don’t care what they say—dammit!” I dropped down in front of Olivia. “I’m sorry. I’m just tired… and I don’t know what to do.”
She took a step back, eyes wide.
I let out a sigh. “Olivia, I know you like it here. They have all this stuff to play with, but this is not our home. Our home is in Allentown.”
Olivia’s cheeks puffed out, a sure sign she was about to have a major throw down again. She picked up one of her dolls, a porcelain one with pink-painted cheeks. I so knew what was coming next.
“This is our house!”
“No,” I said quietly, coming to my feet. “This is a nice house, but—”
“No!” she screeched as she launched her doll across the room. The face cracked and a leg fell off. “No! No!”
I winced and rubbed my temple. “Olivia, knock it off. My head is pounding.”
“No! I don’t wanna leave! Ms. Liz—”
My temper snapped. “Ms. Liz isn’t your mom, Olivia. Your mom is upstairs! And if I say we have to leave, then we have to!”
Like a mini-volcano, Olivia erupted into a fit of screams and tears. For someone so small, she could make a lot of noise. Seeing her like this didn’t make me feel good. I felt terrible, like some kind of evil creature hell-bent on destroying all her dreams.
She hit the floor, stomping her feet.
I tried to get her to stop, but not being able to touch her complicated the whole process. So I stood by helplessly, hoping she’d just tire herself.
“Is everything okay? Sounds like a freight train coming through the house.”
A slender, dark-haired, and neatly-polished woman stood in the doorway.
It seemed a switch was thrown; Olivia’s temper tantrum shut off. Now on her feet, her eyes fastened on the woman. “Ms. Liz! I don’t wanna leave.”
Liz smiled fondly. “Honey, you don’t have to leave. I’ve told you already. This is your home as long as you want it to be.”
I snapped. “Shut up! Stop telling her that. This isn’t her home. You aren’t her mother!”
She blinked, taking a step back. “I’m not trying to take your mother’s place, Ember.”
“Bullshit.” Anger and something akin to hatred boiled through me. I stalked across the floor.
Olivia darted in front of me, cutting me off before I could reach Liz. She held out her arms, wiggling her fingers. In one quick swoop, Liz cradled Olivia in her arms.
I froze mere feet from the two. Olivia reached up and wrapped her arms around Liz’s neck. A hot, fierce emotion cut though me and stole my breath. Betrayal. I recognized the stupidity behind the emotion. Olivia didn’t know what she was doing, but whatever fight I had left burned out.
“What’s going on in here?” Cromwell asked, standing behind Liz.
“Ember wants to leave,” Olivia said. “Do I have to leave?”
Cromwell stepped into the room, resting his hand on Olivia’s back. “No. You don’t have to leave. Ember is just tired and confused. Perhaps she should make it an early night. I’m sure she’ll feel better in the morning.”
Olivia pushed her head into the crook of Liz’s neck. She mumbled something, but I couldn’t hear her. There was a buzzing in my ears, a sick feeling in my stomach. Head down, I darted around them. I walked down the wide hallway, and then bolted up the stairs. My heart felt as if it would shatter into a million pieces.
Once inside my bedroom, I slammed the door shut behind me. Once. Then twice. Doing that always made me feel better whenever I’d gotten into an argument with my parents.
I didn’t feel better now.
Slowly, I slid down the closed door and gulped in air. I’d lost control of Olivia to complete strangers in a matter of minutes. And they hated my guts and planned on shipping me off to some godforsaken place the moment I made the wrong move.
Chapter 7
I hardly slept—big surprise there.
The sun had barely crested the mountains when I climbed out of bed. Unsure of why, I’d searched the quiet house for the room my mom had been placed in, my hands shoved into the front pocket of my hoodie.
She sat in a rocking chair, staring out a large picture window overlooking the front yard. Limp curls hung around her pale face. The vibrancy in her hair seemed to have dulled since yesterday. Beside her was an untouched glass of water.
Ignoring the raw ache in my chest, I crossed the room and sat down cross-legged next to her, resting my chin in my hand. “There’s something wrong here.” I stopped and laughed wearily. “Besides the obvious. But he has these kids here and they hate me. And I think they all can do things.”
Silence.
“This lady wants to make Olivia her own daughter. That should bother you, Mom. She’s cramping your space.”
Mom blinked.
I wondered if that was some form of communication—like Morse code or something. “They’ve been watching us for two years. It’s really creepy.”
I liked to think Mom agreed.
“Olivia doesn’t want to leave. She practically picked sides last night. I know she doesn’t understand, and all she sees are new toys and people who can touch her.”
She let out a little sigh.
I looked up at her, frowning. “I don’t know what to do. There’s going to be no way I can get Olivia out of this house, and even if I did, where would we go? Everything is gone, Mom.”
Still, there was no response.
I sighed again. “Mom, you know I’m not dead, right? I did die, but I’m not dead. I’m sitting here, right in front of you, and… and I don’t know what to do. I don’t know if I should stay here or try to make a run for it with Olivia. I don’t even know where the damn keys to my car are, or if my car is even here.”
She rested her head back and closed her eyes, humming the same song Olivia did.
“And Olivia really does like it here. She’s getting so much attention and I’ve never seen her happier…” I trailed off, closing my own eyes. “I’m sorry for picking seafood that night. I knew you wanted to go home. I was so mad, because you and Dad were arguing. If I’d just kept my mouth shut, none of this would’ve happened.”
Mom stopped humming, but didn’t respond.
I pulled my knees up and rested my head on them. Giving up on the one-sided conversation, I stayed quiet. After a while, I headed downstairs. I really had no idea where I was going. Hunger gnawed at my stomach, but I was afraid someone would be in the kitchen again. So I found myself staring at the front door. Freedom seemed just a doorknob-turn away.
When I did open the door, freedom didn’t wait—a half-naked Hayden did.