Fallen 2. Torment(91)
Sent: Friday, 11/20 at 8:22 am
Subject: Turkey-dog
Check out this picture! We dressed Andrew up as a turkey for the neighborhood
autumn block party. As you can tell from the bite marks on the feathers: He loved it.
What do you think? Should we make him wear it again when you come for
Thanksgiving?
To: lucindap44@gmail.com
From: thegaprices@aol.com
Sent: Friday, 11/20 at 9:06 am
Subject: PS
Your dad read my email and thought it might have made you feel bad. No guilt
trip intended, sweetie. If you're allowed to come home for Thanksgiving, we'd love it. If
you can't, we'll reschedule for another time. We love you.
To: lucindap44@gmail.com
From: thegaprices@aol.com
Sent: Saturday, 11/21 at 12:12 am
Subject: no subject
Just let us know either way? xoxo, Mom
Luce held her head in her hands. She'd been wrong. All the grounding in the
world wouldn't make it easier for her to respond to her parents. They'd dressed their
poodle up as a turkey, for crying out loud! It broke her heart to think of letting them
down. So she procrastinated by opening Callie's email.
To: lucindap44@gmail.com
From: callieallieoxenfree@gmail.com
Sent: Friday, 11/20 at 4:14 pm
Subject: HERE IT IS!
I believe the flight reservation below speaks for itself. Send me your address and
I'll take a cab when I get in on Thursday morning. My first time in Georgia! With my
long-lost best friend! It's going to be soooo peachy! See you in SIX DAYS!
In less than a week, Luce's best friend would be showing up for Thanksgiving at
her parents' house, her parents would be expecting her, and Luce would be right here,
grounded in her dorm room. An enormous sadness engulfed her. She would have given
anything to go to them, to spend a few days with people who loved her, who would give
her a break from the exhausting, confusing couple of weeks she'd spent shackled within
these wooden walls.
She opened a new email and composed a hasty message:
To: cole321@swordandcross.edu
150
From: lucindap44@gmail.com
Sent: Sunday, 11/22 at 9:33 am
Hi, Mr. Cole.
Don't worry, I'm not going to beg you to let me go home for Thanksgiving. I
know a hopeless waste of effort when I see one. But I don't have the heart to tell my
parents. Will you let them know? Tell them I'm sorry.
Things here are fine. Sort of. I am homesick.
Luce
A thumping knock at the door made Luce jump--and click Send on the email
without proofreading it first for typos or embarrassing admissions of emotion.
"Luce!" Shelby's voice called from the other side. "Open up! My hands are full of
Harvest Fest crap. I mean, bounty. " The thuds continued on the other side of the door,
louder now, with the occasional whimpering grunt thrown in.
Pulling open the door, Luce found a panting Shelby, sagging under the weight of
an enormous cardboard box. She had several stretched-out plastic bags threaded through
her fingers. Her knees trembled as she staggered into the room.
"Can I help with something?" Luce took the feather-light wicker cornucopia that
was resting on Shelby's head like a conical hat.
"They put me on Decorations," Shelby grumbled, heaving the box onto the
ground. "I'd give anything to be on Garbage, like Miles. Do you even know what
happened the last time someone made me use a hot-glue gun?"
Luce felt responsible for both Shelby's and Miles's punishments. She pictured
Miles combing the beach with one of those trash-poking sticks she'd seen convicts using
on the side of the road in Thunderbolt. "I don't even know what Harvest Fest is."
"Obnoxious and pretentious, that's what," Shelby said, digging through the box
and tossing onto the floor plastic bags of feathers, tubs of glitter, and a ream of autumncolored construction paper. "It's basically a big banquet where all of Shoreline's donors
come out to raise money for the school. Everyone goes home feeling all charitable
because they unloaded a few old cans of green beans on a food bank in Fort Bragg. You'll
see tomorrow night."
"I doubt it," Luce said. "Remember, I'm grounded?"
"Don't worry, you'll be dragged to this. Some of the biggest donors are angel
advocates, so Frankie and Steven have to put on a show. Which means the Nephilim all
have to be there, smiling pretty."
Luce frowned, glancing up at her non-Nephilim reflection in the mirror. All the
more reason she should stay right here.
Shelby cursed under her breath. "I left the stupid paint-by-number turkey
centerpiece in Mr. Kramer's office," she said, standing up and giving the box of
decorations a kick. "I have to go back."
When Shelby pushed past her toward the door, Luce lost her balance and started
to tumble, tripping over the box and snagging her foot on something cold and wet on the