Circle of Secrets by Kimberley Griffiths Little

Author:Kimberley Griffiths Little [Little, Kimberley Griffiths]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 978-0-545-38802-3
Publisher: Scholastic Inc.
Published: 2011-12-26T16:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER TWELVE

I SLAM THE BEDROOM DOOR SO HARD THE WALLS SHAKE.

I hate myself for what I just said, but I hate Mirage for what she did, too. I hate everything about the past year. I hate feeling like if I’d done something different she wouldn’t have left. And yet, I don’t have any idea what I’m supposed to do different.

Launching myself across the bed again, I bury my face in the pillow, choking on too many stupid tears. I want Mirage to feel what I feel and make it better — without me having to ask. She should already know.

I want her to apologize for leaving. I want her to fix our family. Even with all of Grandmother Phoebe’s faults and the mean things she says and does, Mirage is the one who has to fix us. She broke us up, and I want her to glue us back together. She could make us a family again, but she don’t ever talk about it, and she never came back to get me. Just stayed away forever. And it’s probably too late now.

I rub my face with my arm in the dimness of the bedroom. I can see shadows on the wall from the outside porch light, the outline of the oak tree in the faint glow.

As I stare at the shadows, I know what I want. More than anything else. Most of all, I want Mirage to love me more than she did. Thinking about it makes my heart hurt, but I can’t remember the last time she told me she loves me.

Right then, the bedroom door clicks open and I freeze. I try to look like a sleeping statue. Footsteps cross the room and then the edge of the bed creaks as Mirage perches beside me.

I suck in all the tears and go quiet as a mouse.

“Shelby Jayne. Shar,” Mirage says, and I hear a funny catch in her throat.

I hold my breath waiting to see what she’s gonna do.

“You know, your daddy always calls you Sweetie Pie. And every time he does, it reminds me of sweet potato pie, my favorite in the whole world.”

My face is against the wall, but I can’t breathe right. I’m not going to look at her. I don’t want her to think I’m crying over her. I’ll bet she never cried over me. She just cries over Mister Lenny or that stupid blue bottle tree like it’s got more feelings than I do.

“I’m doin’ everything wrong, ain’t I?” she goes on. Her hand reaches out and she starts to stroke my hair. “I jest want you to know that I’d give anything to redo the whole last year. It was all such a terrible mistake. I wish’t I’d done everything different.”

I hear her sniffling and her voice is shaky and weepy, but she keeps talking, slow and quiet.

“Your grandmother Phoebe is a good woman and I know you love her, but she and I couldn’t live in the same house no more.

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