All the Broken Pieces (6 page)

9

Liv stormed up to her bedroom and flung open the door.

Elizabeth was sitting on Liv’s bed, fingernail polish and makeup everywhere. When she looked up and saw Liv, her eyes widened.

“I thought I told you to stay out of my stuff,” Liv said.

“It was just a little bit. Aren’t you supposed to be staying at Jackie’s house tonight?”

“We had a fight. Just like you and I are going to have a fight if you don’t clean this up and stay out of my stuff.”

Elizabeth put the bottles of nail polish in a big plastic box. Her eyes had gray shadow from her lashes all the way to her eyebrows.

Gritting her teeth, Liv flopped onto her bed and gathered her makeup. Her metallic gray eye shadow was a crumbled mess. “You ruined my favorite one! I swear, you mess up everything.”

Elizabeth’s lower lip stuck out. Tears formed in her eyes. “I didn’t mean to. Don’t be mad.”

Now she felt bad. She wasn’t angry with Elizabeth—well, she was a little angry. Mostly, she’d just had a bad day and the fight with Jackie had been a big one. She reached out and squeezed Elizabeth’s knee. “I’m sorry, okay. You don’t mess up everything.”

“I’m sorry you got into a fight with Jackie. She is kind of a witch with a B, though.”

Liv smiled. “True. Just don’t let Mom hear you say that.” She grabbed a tissue and wiped some of the eye shadow from Elizabeth’s lids. “Less is more, kid.”

“Hello, have you seen your eyeliner these days?”

Liv turned toward the mirror. Her eyeliner was heavy. Way too much black—she was even wearing a black tank top, as well as a dark leather studded cuff. All her other features were the same, but there wasn’t a big scar on her chest. For the first time in a long time, she almost recognized herself.

Eyes glued to her reflection, she moved for a closer look. There in the corner of the mirror was a picture of the woman and man from the dinner table. She and Elizabeth were in it, too.

Liv reached for the picture, knocked over a box, and it rattled as it fell to the floor. She picked it up, studying it. It was a pillbox, little compartments for every day. Three of them still contained pills. She set it aside and bent down to study the picture. But then the world spun, and she was no longer in the room but lying down, a blindingly bright light directly overhead. A person with a surgical mask appeared over her, and the light gleamed off something large and silver in the person’s hand…

…

Liv shot up in bed, her pulse racing. Something had freaked her out in her dream, but she couldn’t remember exactly what, only the echo of the fear deep in her chest. The scar over her heart burned. She rubbed it, taking a few deep breaths to calm down.

Closing her eyes, she tried to catch hold of the images. The last thing she could remember was…

Elizabeth
. Her chest ached in a completely different way now, not from the scar but from the heart beating under it.

She untangled her legs from the covers and kicked them off, as the start of a headache worked its way across her skull.

Holding a hand to her head, hoping the pressure might help, she padded into her bathroom and took a couple Tylenol. When she closed the medicine cabinet, she stared at her reflection. Briefly wondered about using lots of black eyeliner.

Sabrina would for sure call me on it.

It didn’t look that good anyway.

But Elizabeth…
Wearing all that eye shadow, looking and talking like a little adult. The familiarity and warmth that she always felt when she thought about Elizabeth filled her. She wanted to hug her tight and protect her from the world, even when she was kind of being a pain.

A lump formed in her throat. “Why does she feel so real to me?”

…

Breakfast eaten, teeth brushed, and bag ready to go, Liv hurried downstairs.

Today she’d decided to go back to wearing a T-shirt, even choosing a black one. Screw Sabrina and her fashion advice.

Mom slung her purse over her shoulder. “Ready?”

“As I’ll ever be.”

They were almost to the school before she got up the courage to ask about Elizabeth again. Mom might not be aware of her being friends with any younger girls, but maybe the name would trigger something. “Did I know someone named Elizabeth?”

For a moment, Mom didn’t move, just remained perfectly frozen, as if she didn’t hear. Then she turned down Mozart’s “Queen of the Night,” and even if she didn’t have a good answer, it at least gave her a break from the opera music. “Why? Do you think you remember something?”

Explaining the whole dream thing and how real it seemed would be difficult, especially if Mom was going to brush it off again. “The name popped into my head, and it seems familiar.”

Gaze fixed on the road, Mom said, “I had a friend named Elizabeth. She used to come over for dinner, that kind of thing.”

Liv’s heart dropped. “Oh.”

“Something wrong, sweetheart?”

“Nope. That explains it.”

But it didn’t explain it at all.

There were things about the past that just didn’t add up, and Liv was sure there was something Mom was keeping from her. The more she thought about it, the more the missing pictures bothered her, too. How could they lose sixteen years’ worth of family photos? This was the same woman who labeled every container in the kitchen and color-coded her closet.

Mom pulled up to the school and put the car in park. She dug into her purse and took out a cell phone. “I programmed home, my cell, and your dad’s numbers into this phone. Even when I’m in my cooking class, I’ll have mine on vibrate, so call if you need me.”

Liv took it. “Cool.”

“Don’t get into trouble with it. It’s for emergencies, not so you can collect boys’ numbers.” Mom locked eyes with her. “Understand?”

Liv nodded.

“I’ll see you not too long after school. Have a good day.”

“I’ll do my best.” Liv climbed out of the car and charged up the steps to the school, one thing on her mind: she was going to find Spencer and ask what exactly he’d meant when he told her she was “one of those.”

After all she’d been through, it irked her that he thought he could just look at her and know who she was.
She
didn’t even know who she was.

A hand clamped on her arm, and she whipped around to see who’d grabbed her.

Keira’s eyes were wide, her cheeks flushed. “You’ll never guess what happened on my way to school.”

She seemed to be waiting for some kind of response, so Liv said, “You’re right. I probably won’t.”

“This idiot ran a red light and almost plowed into my mom’s car. We swerved and went up on the curb and the truck barely missed us. My heart is racing. Feel it.” Keira lifted Liv’s hand and placed it over her heart. “Can you feel it?”

The lack of personal space?
She liked Keira, but she felt odd standing in the hall, her hand over Keira’s heart. She pulled back. “Really fast.”

“I know, right? Time totally slowed down, and I swear my life flashed before my eyes. I thought, ‘Oh my gosh, I’m too young to die.’”

Keira took a deep breath. “Anyway, it was so freaky. It’s pretty much the most scared I’ve ever been, and at first I told my mom I was too traumatized to come to school, but I swear, she doesn’t even care about my emotional well-being. She just told me to stop being so dramatic and get to class. But if I close my eyes, I see it over and over again.”

Maybe it’s a good thing I don’t remember the accident. Just knowing it happened is enough to freak me out.
“I’m glad you’re okay.”

“Yeah, and I’m so glad my face didn’t get banged up. I mean, my nose is the kind people get surgery to look like.” Keira patted her nose, then dropped her hand. “That was pretty vain-sounding. I just like my nose, and having a big scar would totally be awful.”

Pain radiated from Liv’s chest—from the scar she never wanted anyone to see. Wrapping her arms around herself, she walked down the hall with Keira, abandoning her mission to confront Spencer.

…

“Hey, Liv,” a voice said from behind her as she exited the cafeteria. “Wait up.”

Clay stepped next to her. “You didn’t say much at lunch.”

“Well, that’s how we do things at the North Pole.”

His face dropped. “I was afraid we made you feel bad yesterday.”

“Not bad. More like…stupid.”

“That wasn’t what I was going for at all.” He put his hand on her shoulder. “Let me make it up to you. How about I walk you to class?”

Liv nodded. “Okay. I’ve got pre-calc with Mr. Barker.”

They started down the hall. Unable to think of anything to say, she stared straight ahead, hugging her books to her chest. When they reached the classroom, she turned to Clay. “Um, thanks for walking with me.”

Clay grinned. “Sure thing. I’d say have fun, but since you’re going to math class, I don’t think that’s possible.”

“Oh, I like math.”

Of all the things to say, that’s what you go for?

Don’t say I didn’t warn you if he grunts and makes caveman noises now.

“Pretty
and
smart. Sounds like a dangerous combo.” Clay grinned again, then turned around. And almost bumped into Spencer. “Oh hell, it’s Hale.”

The disdain was evident as Spencer glared at Clay. “Clever. Now move out of my way.”

They regarded each other for a moment, both staying rooted to their places.

Clay shook his head. “Not worth it.” He stepped around Spencer and continued walking down the hall.

Spencer’s gaze moved to her. “Nice choice of friends.”

Liv raised an eyebrow. “Are you talking about you or him?”

“I’m not your friend.” Spencer walked past her, into the classroom.

It took her a minute to pick her jaw off the floor and recompose herself. When she walked into the classroom, she avoided looking at Spencer. She was done wondering what his deal was. She already knew. He was a jerk. A jerk she planned to avoid as much as possible.

…

Classical music played through the kitchen, culturing the food from boring beef stew to a French stew Mom called
pot au feu
—which she explained meant pot on fire.

“What’s next?” Liv asked.

Mom wiped her hands on the dish towel hanging from the oven door. “Get the celery, carrots, and onions.”

Liv grabbed the veggies out of the crisper, rinsed them, and laid them on the cutting board. There was an art to the way Mom chopped vegetables. She was fast with a knife, yet her speed didn’t mess up her precision.

“Oh, before I forget, I need some information so I can write my paper for my English comp class.”

“Like what?” Mom asked, her knife gliding through the carrots.

“Basic stuff. Like traditions, what happened on the day I was born…”

Knife still in motion, Mom whipped her head up.

“Mom, be”—the knife went down again—“careful,” Liv finished. But it was too late.

Mom dropped the knife and brought her hand over the sink. “Oh, drat!”

“I’ll get you a Band-Aid.” Liv ran to the bathroom and dug through the medicine cabinet. The bright red letters made the box easy to find. Frantic, she took out a Band-Aid and rushed back into the kitchen.

The paper towel Mom had over her finger had turned red.

“What’s going on in here?” Dad asked as he came into the room.

“Oh, I just cut myself.”

Shock crossed Dad’s face. “You? Steady Hands Stein?”

“It’s nothing big.”

Dad stepped up to her. “Let me see.” He removed the paper towel and studied the cut. A crimson stream ran down Mom’s finger. “Good thing no one here’s squeamish at the sight of blood.”

The room tilted and Liv reached out to steady herself on the counter.
Blood. There’s blood everywhere.

“You okay, Livie?”

Faint and distant, mixed in with the sound of rain pounding metal, she heard a song. A song that she knew by heart. But she had no idea what it was. There were drums. Loud drums. A female voice belted out the lyrics with power and conviction. Something about swirling shades of blue, the sun kissing the earth, and hushing the urge to cry.

Blood poured down, soaking her shirt, leaving large drops on her jeans. Lifting her head was impossible. Everything hurt.

You’re going to die.

10

“Whoa,” Liv said as Mom’s fuzzy outline sharpened. “What happened?”

“Dad carried you to the couch when you fainted. Do you remember? You saw the blood and—”

“Don’t say blood.” Liv put a hand up to her throbbing head.
I feel like I never quite get rid of this wretched headache.

Mom frowned. “You’re the daughter of two surgeons. You should be able to handle a little blood.”

Liv groaned. “Mom, please.”

Dad handed her a glass of water. She sat up and took a sip.

“How are you feeling now?” he asked.

“Better.” Liv glanced at Mom’s finger. A Band-Aid covered the tip of it. “Are you okay?”

“It’s fine. Now you rest here, and I’ll get you a snack to tide you over until dinner. And don’t worry, none of the blood got on the food.”

“Seriously, Mom, can you please stop talking about it?” Liv shuddered. It wasn’t so much the blood as the feeling seeing it had given her.

Like the life was slowly draining from her.

Mom smiled, then leaned down and hugged her. “It’s okay if you’re squeamish, just don’t faint like that again. You scared me.”

“Believe me, I’ll do my best.”

Mom disappeared into the kitchen. Dad sat on the couch and picked the
National Geographic
off the coffee table. His expression changed as he scanned the pages, reading the different stories.

Sitting there, supposedly relaxing, wasn’t really relaxing. It was boring. And it made her start thinking about everything that was wrong with her. “I feel like I’m falling apart.”

Mom stepped into the doorway, vegetable plate in her hands. “You’re not falling apart. In fact, you’re very lucky to be as healthy as you are.” She placed the plate on the coffee table and Liv saw the snack she’d brought. Carrot sticks and celery. The same thing she’d been chopping when she’d cut her finger.
Yeah. No thanks.

“Your mother’s right. The fainting was a reaction to seeing blood, not because anything’s wrong with you.” Dad lowered his magazine. “Although we are going to have to get you over that. You can be anything you want to be except afraid.”

“I’ve got two doctors living under my same roof,” Liv said. “If there’s a situation involving the word that I’m not going to say, I think I’ll be fine.”

“Well, what about when you go to college?”

A crease formed between Mom’s eyebrows. “I don’t even want to think about that.” She sat next to Liv and patted her leg. “We just got you, and I’m not letting you go.”

Liv tensed as cold crept up her spine. “Just got me?”

“I mean, we just got you healed, and it seems like only yesterday… Just no more talk of leaving. As far as I’m concerned, you’re living with us forever.”

Dad shrugged. “Fine by me.”

Mom’s and Dad’s eyes landed on her.

“I’m not planning on going anywhere,” she said. “I can’t even seem to make it through a day without some kind of tragedy.”

…

Later that night as she was crawling into bed, Liv realized she’d never gotten the answers from Mom so she could start on her English composition paper. In fact, all night Mom and Dad had been exchanging odd glances. After Liv and Dad had taken a walk, something that was becoming a nightly ritual, Mom pulled Dad into the kitchen and told her to go start on her homework. When she said she needed information for her paper, Mom’s tone sharpened, and she’d told her to do her
other
homework and worry about the paper later.

Clenching her jaw so she wouldn’t scream—which was what she felt like doing—she flipped onto her other side.
What are they keeping from me? And
why
are they keeping it from me?

She tried to connect the dots, but without her memories, too many of the dots were missing. It all came down to the wreck, though—that much she was sure of.
They act like the full truth would break me. Does that mean they know about the voices? Or maybe there’s something else.
Liv’s stomach knotted.

Something even worse.