No skirt. No sweatshirt. No wild hair.
Breanne turned and stared down the hallway past the kitchen, where she could still hear footsteps running away from her. “Shelly?” Feeling almost disembodied from reality, Breanne took one more look outside, then turned and headed down the hall. “Hello?”
“No one’s here!”
That was Shelly’s voice. Breanne would have sworn it, but Shelly was outside, she’d just seen her there. With goose bumps raised over every inch of her body, Breanne came to the kitchen.
Empty. “Hello?” she called out, half afraid to get an answer.
“I told you, no one’s here! Don’t you listen?”
The voice hadn’t come from the kitchen. Breanne moved out of there, past the dining room, which was also empty. “Where are you?”
“Go away!”
The voice came from the back, the hallway with the servants’ rooms. It was darker here, but not as dark as it had been on previous visits. Uneasily, Breanne stared at the door to the cellar straight ahead, beyond which lay Edward’s body. Then she turned and eyed the other four doors, all closed.
She could feel someone behind one of them. “Who are you?”
“I’m not telling,” came the soft whisper. “I’m not supposed to tell.”
Twenty-seven
Everybody wants to go to heaven, but nobody wants to die.
—Breanne Mooreland’s journal entry
Breanne stood there in the middle of the servants’ quarters, both confused and terrified. “Shelly?”
“You like Shelly. You’re her friend.”
The voice came from the left. Breanne took a step toward the two doors there. “Yes, I’m Shelly’s friend. Who are you?”
“You’re nice. You’ll understand.”
Door closest to the cellar door. The one that had been locked all this time. “Understand what?”
“What happened.”
Breanne froze with her hand outstretched for the handle. “With Edward?”
Silence.
“Who are you?” Breanne asked.
More silence.
“Can’t you tell me who you are?”
“I’m not supposed to.”
Heart pounding, Breanne wrapped her fingers around the handle. “Why not?”
“Because I’m a secret,” she whispered, sounding just like Shelly.
But it wasn’t, Breanne knew that now. “A secret?” Damn, the door was still locked.
“I’m supposed to stay quiet and out of trouble while Shelly does her job.”
Breanne stared at the wood. “You’re Shelly’s sister.”
“Yes.” A delighted giggle followed this, and then a click, and the door opened.
Shelly’s face, and yet not. The eyes were slightly different, slightly slanted down. The mouth was fuller, softer. “I’m her twin.” She grinned. “I’m special.”
“I bet you are,” Breanne said softly, her throat inexplicably tight. “What’s your name?”
“Stacy.”
“Stacy.” Breanne smiled gently. “Shelly told me she had a sister. She said you are close. She loves you very much.”
Stacy beamed. “I love her, too. That’s why I’m real quiet. I was real quiet, wasn’t I? You didn’t even know it was me your first night here!”
The face she’d seen hovering over her, of course. “Yes, you were real quiet.”#p#分页标题#e#
“I can’t let Edward see me. He says I’m retarded, but I’m not. I’m not!”
Breanne’s heart twisted. “That wasn’t nice of him.”
“He’s not nice. He’s mean. I used to help Shelly, until I broke a plate. He—” She frowned, then hugged herself, turning away.
A surge of hatred for the unknown Edward welled up. “Did he hurt you, Stacy?”
“I’m not supposed to talk about him.” She hunched tighter into herself. “He doesn’t like it. He told Shelly I couldn’t come here with her anymore.”
“So you hid.”
Stacy didn’t answer. Instead she began to hum very softly beneath her breath.
“Edward’s gone now,” Breanne said softly. “He can’t yell at you. He can’t hurt you.”
“He’s not gone!” Stacy tossed a fearful look over her shoulder at the closed cellar door. “He’s right in there. I’ve seen him!”
“Stacy, he’s dead.”
She blinked huge, hurt eyes at Breanne. “Are you sure?” she whispered.
At this moment, Breanne was sure of exactly nothing, except she had a fierce surge of protectiveness for this beautiful, sweet woman.