The Hand on the Wall by Maureen Johnson

Author:Maureen Johnson
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: HarperCollins
Published: 2019-11-26T16:00:00+00:00

15

THE WHOLE HOUSE WAS SHAKING.

Stevie opened her eyes. The light in the room was dim. She blinked a few times and reached for her phone. It was almost three in the afternoon. There were no texts or calls from her parents, which suggested that there had been no signal.

She found she had made a nest for herself to keep warm—all the blankets, her robe, her fleece, even a few towels. At one point, she remembered she had considered tipping out her bag of dirty laundry on top of herself. She pieced together the events that had gotten her here. She had been with Hunter and David in the common room until early in the morning, then the exhaustion had come down on her and she had gone into her room to rest for a minute. The minute had turned to hours, and the day had vanished.

She slithered out of bed and went to the window. Outside, the snow was coming down sideways, even blowing back up. It had so coated the trees and ground that it was hard to figure out what was outside at all. It was impossible to calculate how much snow had collected on the ground, but it looked like it was now a few inches below the window. So, two feet? Three feet?

What to do now? She returned to her bed and sat on the edge. There was no going outside—not outside-outside and possibly not outside this room. She looked at the wall, the gently lumpy, overpainted surface where the message had appeared all those weeks ago. Between the cottony view out the window and the post-nap fuzz in her head, reality distorted and a ball of adrenaline shot through her system. This place was dangerous. She should have heeded the warning on the wall. She kept brushing up against death’s sleeve, avoiding it by inches and moments. It was at the end of a tunnel, under the floor, at the other end of the phone. She should have gone home, left this terrible place, because her luck suddenly felt fleeting. Now there was no escape.

Just as she felt the first ramp up into an anxiety attack, there was a gentle rapping on her door, and Janelle poked her head in. She had her comforter wrapped around her like a regal cape. It dragged along behind her as she came in.

“I thought I heard you,” she said. “You’re up.”

The mental monsters ran away in Janelle’s presence. She had that effect, and Stevie almost welled up with appreciation.

“Where’s Vi?” Stevie asked, casually wiping at her eye.

“Up in David’s room. They’re reading. David, Hunter, Vi.”

“Nate?”

“He’s writing?” Janelle said. “I think? At least he has some sense. I’m surprised you’re not up there.”

“Yeah.” Stevie smoothed out her blanket. “I’m still not welcome.”

“Don’t worry about that,” Janelle said. “Forget him.”

There was an extra edge in her voice now, and a bit of a rasp. Stevie wondered if she had been crying this morning.

“Are you two fighting?” Stevie said. “You and Vi?”

Janelle sat on the bed and tightened the comforter cloak around herself.

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