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The Prized Girl. Amy K. Green
Читать онлайн.Название The Prized Girl
Год выпуска 0
isbn 9780008334482
Автор произведения Amy K. Green
Жанр Ужасы и Мистика
Издательство HarperCollins
Chapter Thirty-Three: Virginia
Chapter Thirty-Seven: Virginia
Five Days After
WHEN MY HALF SISTER, Jenny, was killed, it was all over the news—national news, not just the local paper that had to use an offensively large font to fill its pages. Strangers drove great distances to be part of the fanfare. Reporters and their vans lined the street in front of the church hosting her funeral. I parked my dented Jetta along the side of the road about a quarter mile away. There was no reserved parking space for me.
St. Bernard’s Cathedral was the only church aesthetically pleasing enough for my stepmother, Linda, to hold the funeral in. It was too large for the community; even Christmas Eve Mass couldn’t fill more than half the pews. Not today, though. Today, the local police were turning people away.
Men and women were milling around crying, consoling each other. No one was smiling, not even the polite forced smile you use to mask pain. Just hordes of people looking truly devastated by Jenny’s death. I didn’t recognize any of them, and I highly doubted they had ever set foot in this town before.
A dopey uniformed officer named Brett stood at the base of the church stairs. We went to high school together. It was the type of town where no matter the age, it felt like we all went to high school together in some shape or form. He looked exhausted, and his buzz cut was useless to sponge up the beads of sweat multiplying across his forehead. He just let them grow until they dripped off and splashed onto his shirt.
Brett was a bouncer without a list, making gut decisions about who he could let into the church. I was fourth in line, an actual line that I had to wait in patiently to attend my own sister’s funeral. It was my choice. I didn’t deserve special treatment. I was not a good sister.
I watched Brett turn two people away before recognizing the couple in front of me and allowing them inside without hesitation. When I stepped up for my turn, he looked up carelessly, locked on my face, processed who I was, and straightened his spine.
“Virginia … hi. I’m very sorry for your loss.”
“Thank you,” I said.
“This is crazy, huh?” He finally wiped his brow, altering the trajectory of his sweat beads.
“Was I supposed to RSVP?” I joked. I probably shouldn’t have. No jokes at funerals.
“Of course not,” he said, too nervous to get it. “Please go on in.” He stepped aside and extended his arms with such flourish it was as if I had the last golden ticket.
IT WAS LOUD INSIDE. Churches were supposed to be quiet. The noise was unsettling. A group of sobbing women who must have gotten in just before Brett took the helm filled the last two rows. They looked like they were attending the Kentucky Derby. Are funeral hats a thing?
The next few rows were a mixed bag of strange faces and town staples. It was easy to tell who the out-of-towners were because they ignored me. The people from town gave me intrusive pitying looks followed by immediate avoidance of continued eye contact. It was the same way when my mother died.
Wrenton was one of those old New England towns where the founding families all spawned from some combination of people from the Mayflower, and for a long time it was just the same names swapped around over and over again. Even though there were a lot more surnames now, it still felt to me like we were all from the same litter, destined to live and die where our ancestors had. Someday, I was going to leave and never look back—just not today.
I could see Linda in the front row amidst a few distant relatives of hers. Her outfit wasn’t as on point as I’d expected. Her black skirt was wrinkled in the back, and her pleated blouse was, dare I say, frumpy. She hadn’t touched her curling iron, which was a real shocker. Linda always curled her hair for events. Instead, the blonde strands, too long for her age, just fell flat against her back.
I watched her face contort and quiver as people whispered things to her with