Requiem (Delirium Trilogy 3) by Oliver Lauren

Author:Oliver, Lauren [Oliver, Lauren]
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub
Published: 0101-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

On Saturday morning I make my

visit to Deering Highlands. It is

becoming almost routine. I’m happy

that I manage to avoid seeing Grace

– the streets are still, silent,

wrapped in an early morning mist –

and happy, too, that the shelves of

the underground room are looking

fuller already.

Back at home, I shower in too-hot

water, until my skin is pink. I scrub

carefully, under my fingernails

even, as though the smell of the

Highlands, and all the people living

there, might have clung to me. But I

can’t be too careful. If Cassie was

invalidated because she caught the

disease, or because Fred suspected

her of it, I can only imagine what he

will do to me and to my family if he

discovers that the cure did not work

perfectly.

I need to know – for good, for

sure – what happened to Cassandra.

Fred is spending the day golfing

with

several

dozen

campaign

donors and supporters, including my

father. My mother is meeting Mrs

Hargrove at the club for lunch. I

wave good-bye to my parents

cheerfully and then kill time for a

half-hour, too antsy to watch TV or

do anything but pace.

When a sufficient amount of time

has elapsed, I gather up the final

guest list and seating chart for the

wedding, shuffling them roughly

into a folder. There’s no point in

being secretive about where I’m

going, so I call Rick, Tony’s

brother, and wait on the front porch

for him to pull up the car.

‘To the Hargroves’, please,’ I

say brightly as I slide into the back

seat.

I try not to fidget too much. I

don’t want Rick to know that I’m

nervous. I don’t want any questions.

But he doesn’t pay any attention to

me at all. He keeps his eyes on the

road. His bald head, nestled in his

shirt collar, reminds me of a

swollen pink egg.

At the Hargroves’ house, all

three cars are missing from the

circular driveway. So far, so good.

‘Wait here,’ I say to Rick. ‘I

won’t be long.’

A girl I recognize as a member of

the household staff opens the door.

She can’t be more than a few years

older than I am and has a permanent

look of dull suspicion, like a dog

kicked too many times in the head.

‘Oh!’ she says when she sees me,

and hesitates, clearly uncertain

about whether to let me in.

I start talking immediately. ‘I ran

over here as fast as I could. Can you

believe after all that, my mom

forgot to bring the plans to lunch?

Mrs Hargrove needs approval over

the seating chart, of course.’

‘Oh!’ the girl says again. She

frowns. ‘But Mrs Hargrove isn’t

here. She’s at the club.’

I let out a groan, making a big

show of surprise. ‘When my mom

said they were having lunch, I just

assumed …’

‘They’re at the club,’ she repeats

nervously. She’s clinging to that

piece of information like a lifeline.

‘So stupid of me,’ I say. ‘And of

course I don’t have time to run to

the club now. Maybe I could just

drop them for Mrs Hargrove … ?’

‘I can give them to her, if you

like,’ she offers.

‘No, no. You don’t have to,’ I say

quickly. I lick my lips. ‘If I can just

pop inside for a minute, I’ll leave

her a quick note. Tables six and

eight may have to be swapped, and

I’m not sure what to do with Mr and

Mrs Kimble …’

The girl retreats to let me in.

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