Haunted Sister by Lael Littke

Author:Lael Littke
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Henry Holt and Co. (BYR)

NINE

Mom drove up just as I hurried out of the gift shop. I got into the car, the secret in my purse so hot that it could have been burning a hole.

“Hi,” Mom said. “How is Scott?”

“Not good. He had some trouble after the operation.”

I didn’t tell her I hadn’t even seen him. Maybe it was because I didn’t want her to ask where I’d been since she’d left.

“I’m sorry to hear he’s having problems,” Mom said.

She went on chatting about people she knew who’d had serious operations and had lived to tell about it.

I hardly listened. My mind was on the bracelet.

“Lenore,” I said inside my head. “You can’t do that. Stealing is wrong.”

She didn’t answer. Like a guilty child, she was hiding.

“Just wait till we get home,” I threatened.

But when we did get home, I wasn’t sure what I could do to punish Lenore.

Mom fixed a snack, but I couldn’t eat much.

“Aren’t you feeling well, honey?” Mom put her palm against my forehead the way she’d done when I was a little kid and had a fever.

“I’m all right, Mom. I’m just worried about Scott.”

“He’s a very strong young man, Janine. He’ll be all right.” She gave me a reassuring smile. “Go upstairs now and try to get some rest. I’m worried about you.”

I took her suggestion and went upstairs, closing my bedroom door. Out of guilt? I didn’t usually close it.

Putting my purse with its stolen burden on my bed, I fished around in it with my good hand until I found the bracelet.

“Lenore, we have something to discuss.” I spoke aloud. It seemed more forceful that way, and I needed all the force I could muster. How do you confront someone who is only a voice inside your head? I couldn’t fix Lenore with a fiery eye and make her see how outraged I was.

Or could I?

Walking over to my dresser, I faced the mirror. Looking myself straight in the eye, I called Lenore again, louder than before.

“I can hear you,” Lenore said. “Very likely Mom can hear you and maybe even Hallie over at the hospital, too. What are you yelling about?”

I stared at my own face, which was bunched together with anger. The brows hung low over the eyes and the mouth was a straight slash across the lower part of my face. Even Lenore should be able to see how angry I was.

I held up the bracelet I’d taken from my purse. “This is what I’m yelling about, Lenore.”

“Oh, the bracelet!” Lenore said it with delight, as if I’d brought the bracelet out of my purse purely for her pleasure. “Put it on your arm so I can see how it looks.”

“Are you crazy? It’s stolen. It’s not mine.”

“Of course it isn’t yours. It’s mine. Now put it on.”

“Lenore!”

“Here, I’ll do it.”

I watched as Lenore took the bracelet in the hand of my broken arm, squeezing together the fingers of my left hand and deftly slipping the bracelet onto my arm.

“Lenore!” I gasped. “You promised not to use my arms anymore.

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