Midnight Ruling (7 page)

Claire snickered first and flipped her shiny auburn hair. Hazel eyes sparkled as she looked me over with the same condescension as her friend.

I shared a glance with Aidan, who looked calm compared to the mosh pit in my stomach.

“It’s too easy of a story, if you ask me,” Muscles sneered.

“It’s a good thing I didn’t ask,” I grumbled. “We have to go.”

Aidan nodded and started to push his chair back, but someone behind us hip checked it back in.

I looked back at the low-browed guy with tattoos up his neck. He crossed his arms and narrowed his eyes at me as if to dare me.

“Do you agree with Joel, Cooper?” Claire asked and bounced in her seat to catch Cooper’s attention behind me. Miss Claire wasn’t wearing a bra.

I glared at Muscles, or rather Joel, and his pretentious smirk. “I think that you should all
fu
…”

Aidan grabbed my arm, and before the guy could shove his chair again, he rolled out of it and was on his feet. The quick movement would have been lithe if it weren’t for the slight stumble from his bum leg.

The conversation went cold the moment Aidan stood.

Despite being twice his size, Neck-Tattoo stepped back when meeting one of Aidan’s glacial stares.

“You wanted to know what happened,” Aidan said, his voice carrying despite being low. “I told you what I know. You think this is easy for us? You think we don’t wonder every day what happened to our friends? To us?” He motioned to his leg and hobbled to shift his weight.

It wasn’t as bad as he was playing it out to be, but the added theatrics worked. Claire wouldn’t make eye contact with us. Neither would Ethan nor many others.

Joel glowered, muscles twitching in his shoulders. “I still don’t believe you.”

“That’s your problem, not mine,” Aidan said. To me, he whispered, “Come on.”

“That’s right,” Joel chided. “Run away. But people will find out about you two. Everyone will find out what kind of people you really are.”

As Aidan and I walked out of the cafeteria together, those words echoed in my mind.

Everyone will find out what kind of people you really are.

I couldn’t quite put my finger on the answer to that question myself.

“I need to talk to you,” I whispered when we were out in the hallway.

“Not here,” Aidan replied.

I glanced behind us and saw a few students following us, but none were from the table. “Why?”

“I don’t trust anyone here. Listen.” Aidan held the door open for me. “Go home and look for the book. Then we’ll meet tomorrow. Call me in the morning. I have a family thing tonight. I have to keep them thinking everything’s okay, but keep your phone on you all night.”

“Why?”

Aidan shielded his face as we stepped into the sunlight. “Just in case.”

I didn’t like how he said it. “You know something I don’t?” I asked.

He started to give me a reassuring smile when a body stepped so close that it startled us both. It was Claire Weatherbe. She smiled, full lips as glossy as her hair in the sunlight. Then she was stepping, practically skipping, into the parking lot, short skirt swinging dangerously high.

Aidan’s teeth were grit when he grumbled, “Off to take news to the hive.”

“You’re right,” I said. “We’ll talk later.”

Later that evening, I could hear Mona watching TV in the living room. I called Aidan’s apartment, hoping he’d be home, but the answering machine clicked in. His cell had the same result, but I left a quick message on it that sounded desperate, like: “It’s me. Something weird is going on. Call me back, ‘kay?”

When I came home, I looked up
elfelejt
and came up with references to the Hungarian language. Before I could find a translator online, our internet connection cut off. Mom had called the company several times to hear the same answer: they were working on it.

I thought about visiting the library, but Mom was so against it that it sparked an argument. Eventually, I stormed off to take a shower, leaving her with a screaming baby and Mona, who’d suctioned to every doorframe to watch.

Already cozy in my pajama shorts and top, I made my way to my bedroom. The bed was still unmade, and I knew Mom would have a fit if she saw that. Despite the fact that I was still angry with her, I did a quick job of trying to make it look fixed. I didn’t need more grief.

As I turned, something flickered in my mirror.

Looking up with a start, I saw my own frazzled reflection. In an attempt to assuage my appearance, I brushed out the wet tangles. I should have been studying, but my brain was fried.

Downstairs, I heard Dad come home after dark. Mom’s voice rang about being late. Considering I left her in a foul mood, it was somewhat expected.

Feeling the gravity that often came with their arguments, I realized I didn’t want to listen tonight.

I glared at my closed door as the arguing couple drew closer up the stairs. Dad was quiet. The only reason I knew he was there was because my mother’s argument was gaining momentum.

Mona turned up the volume on the TV downstairs. She hated these fights about as much as I did. Caitlin didn’t utter a peep, which was surprising.

As they passed my room, I heard my mother gasping, “Is it another woman? Is that perfume? If you think that you can abandon this family after…”

Another woman?

I wasn’t sure why I hadn’t considered it in the past. If someone else’s dad was late every night, I would have thought it was an affair right away, but this was
my
dad. Glancing at the door, I gritted my teeth so tight it hurt. Today was not a good day, and for some reason, hearing the accusation sent a streak of fury up my vibrating nerves. I wasn’t mad at anyone in particular; I was just pissed.

I flung my hairbrush at my bedroom door. Every hardened emotion carried it, as if the violent throw could pull the anger away. For an instant, I felt damn good, until I noticed the dent in the fake wood.

The noise stifled the argument outside. Only the TV laughter downstairs could be heard before long, heavy footsteps thudded toward my room. The door burst open as if by a hurricane.

Dad’s face scrunched in a way that instinctively frightened me. “What in the name of Christ is going on in here?” he demanded.

Mom, suddenly meek, peeked under his arm, worry and guilt lining her face.

“I need to talk to you.” My dispassionate voice was so steady and soft it made me uncomfortable. Dad’s scowl softened, just a fraction.

He hesitated in my doorway and didn’t look back at my mom for back up or support. I don’t think she would be able to take this conversation, the one I’d been putting off since the asylum. Though I was charged with emotion, I waited, staying as still as I could.

After stepping inside the bedroom, Dad closed the door behind him. My dad was a handsome man for his age. He had a prominent nose and cleft chin that sometimes made him appear angry. He was rarely angry, happy, joking, or sad, but he was always serious. He was still in his business suit; his peppered brown hair was neat, but his eyes were tired. Scars from his life were bright and visible in those eyes.

Dad and I hadn’t been alone together for a long time. The last time was when he had to drive me to school earlier in the semester when Mom was out of town and I’d missed the bus. It was strange to feel disconnected with my dad. He’d never been abusive, mean, or heartless to me, but all the same, I never saw him anymore. This man wasn’t the same one I’d known as a kid.

“What about?” he asked curtly, looking awkward. He towered over me, though he towered over everyone in the household.

Paranoid of being overheard, I motioned for him to sit on the bed away from the door so I could face him from the vanity. He glanced at the bed and hesitated.

“I won’t keep you long,” I assured him, resisting the urge to roll my eyes. When he did come home, he liked to either sit in front of the TV or do some of his work on his laptop—alone. The man was a machine when it came to work.

After my reassurance, he strode across the room and sat down on my twin bed. “Is there a problem, Nora?” he asked, sounding professional and tugging down his tie. The small, nervous twitch was so like mine when I tugged at my shirts.

Dad met my eye and raised his eyebrows.

I tried to think of the best way to tell him. “This is hard to say because I don’t know how you’re going to react.”

“Does your mother know?”

I stopped and stared at him. “Know what?”

“What you’re about to tell me?” He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees, looking ready to bolt.

I shook my head and glanced at the door. “She won’t understand, Dad.”

He chewed on the inside of his lip before asking, “Are you pregnant?”

“Wow,” I said and shook my head. “No. This is about Nell.”

His instant sigh of relief turned to a wet choking sound.

Before he could have time to think over what I’d said, I explained. “I went to see her last week. Remember when I was late coming home and you guys were so mad that I didn’t call from the study day? I was in Windmane.”

He tugged and readjusted his tie again, his dark blue eyes lingering on mine, searching for an answer. Finally, he asked, “Why?”

“I needed answers. Answers about Neive.”

“You shouldn’t have done that, Nora.”

“I know.” I held up my palms as if to surrender. “But I did, and I need to know what you were told about that night.”

He glanced at the door and shifted his weight on my bed, making it squeak. “Why couldn’t you ask your mom all this? We were told the same thing.”

“Because Mom is stressed with two little kids and Nell wasn’t her sister.”

He flinched as if I had flung a physical blow. “I’d rather not talk about it.”

I stood up so abruptly that he sat up straight and almost stood up himself. “I need you to,” I pressed. “That woman was out of it, and she told me things that I want cleared up.”

This time he did stand up. He got to his feet in a fatherly way, a protective giant, and his expression softened. I was proud of my dad in that moment. This was probably the hardest thing for him to talk about. “What things did she tell you?”

“That there’s a book.”

Grabbing the bridge of his nose between his thumb and his forefinger, he grumbled something inaudible.

I decided to continue. “I never really talked about that night with you guys, so I don’t know what they told you, but there
was
a book. I saw Nell with it. It was black…”

“I know about the book.”

This froze me in my place. I had to suppress the excitement before he could see it. “You do?” I asked carefully.

He nodded and finally released his nose. “I kept it.” He sank back down and sat on my bed.

“It’s not evidence? The police should…”

He waved a hand at me to be silent. “The police never saw it.” He avoided my stare, finding the floor fascinating as he continued. “I figured if they thought about letting Nell get away with this, then I would bring it up, but that never happened. She was guilty, and she confessed to it. She…that wasn’t the sister that I knew from our childhood, you know.” His voice grew distant. “She was a good little sister. She played hopscotch and fantasized about being a princess when she was little. She was no different than Mona is now, or you and Neive as girls.”

I saw him wince as he mentioned my twin’s name.

Breathing out through his nose, he said, not looking up, “After high school, Nelly just disappeared for seven years. I never saw or heard from her in that time. I sometimes wondered if she was dead. Then one day, she just popped back up and moved in with your mother and me when you and Neive were just babies. She babysat you two and had a job and a boyfriend. She seemed normal other than a few occasional late nights and sometimes showing up with random bruises.

“The book you’re talking about is a little black scribbler I got for her for her birthday after she moved in with us.” He almost smiled as he said, “I had forgotten it was her birthday and picked up something at the local drugstore. I hadn’t seen her in seven years. I was bound to forget the day. Anyway, it was cheap, but she seemed thrilled.”

His nostalgic tone faded to something dark. “She had that damn thing filled with evil words. Nothing in it made sense, and that bitch had it with her when she…murdered…” He didn’t finish, clearing his throat.

The man I barely knew was shaken by the memory, and I wondered if this was a good idea after all. He’d never spoken this much to me in a year, and it felt as if I shouldn’t speak at all, but I had a question.

Part of me had wanted to ask him why he didn’t tell me about Nell’s escape from the institute five years ago, but instantly I knew. Like any father or parent, he was protecting me. He couldn’t protect my sister, and I’d never considered what that must have felt like for him.

The late nights. The avoidance of the family. It made more sense than it should have.

Touching my forehead with my fingertips, I sat down beside him on my bed. I could almost feel his frustration. “And you found the book and kept it?”

“I’m not sure why I kept it, but yes I did. Other than you, it was the only thing there when…It was something I’d given her.” He wiped the palms of his hands against his knees, sounding guilty.

“Where is it?”

His head jerked towards me as if I’d betrayed him. “Why?”

“I want to read it.”

“Why? It makes no sense.”

“I need to.” After a pause, I added, “Dad, I
have
to.”

His eyes were red but not teary as he stared at me, assessing my request. “Basement, in a box, but don’t expect me to tell you which one or go looking for it for you. Your mother’s reorganized that basement too many times over.”

There he was. That was the dad I was used to. The assertive, serious, and to-the-point man.

“Thank you.” I offered a weak smile.

He reached over and patted my knee as if it were something he had to do rather than wanted to. Standing, he sauntered out of my room, closing the door lightly behind him without a backwards glance.