Before She Was Found - Heather Gudenkauf HQ Fiction eBook

Скачать книгу

to talk about anymore was “college and career readiness.” I made air quotes with my fingers and Violet smiled. I was hoping that Violet would sit next to me during lunch but Jordyn got to her first. Oh, well, maybe tomorrow.

       I ended up sitting next to Joy Willard, which is okay. One thing I like about my school is that they don’t let people get away with saving seats or telling people that you can’t sit next to them. If Mrs. Morris, the lady who supervises the lunchroom, sees you don’t have anyone to sit next to she’ll send you to a specific spot. I swear she’s got this superpower that kicks in the minute you carry your tray from the food line. She sees you desperately looking around the cafeteria for a place to sit and then she swoops in and points. “No arguing, Landry,” she’ll say. “Sit there and start eating. This isn’t Perkins, you know.” Even the jerks don’t talk back.

       Then at lunch I felt something hit me in the back. I turned to see what it was and I saw a tater tot on the floor behind where I was sitting. I turned back around and it happened four more times. Plop, plop, plop, plop. The last tater tot landed in my hair and stuck there. I pulled it out and turned around to see who was throwing them. Jordyn and some other girls were sitting at the table behind me and were trying not to laugh. I know it was her. Violet was just staring down at her lunch tray like she didn’t see what happened. At least she wasn’t laughing.

       When I got home and took off my shirt there were four dark spots on the back. Like four greasy bullet holes. I don’t know why Jordyn’s being so mean to me. I’ve never done anything to her. Ever.

       At least I have just about every class with Violet. Everything but math and home base, which is what they used to call homeroom in elementary school. My mom is the school secretary at the elementary school I went to last year. It’s kind of weird not being in the same building together anymore, but I’m glad. I would never tell my mom that, though. She keeps saying things like, “Don’t you miss seeing me every day, Cora?”

       I really don’t miss it. I never realized how awkward it was having my mom around all the time. She knew every move I made. Let me tell you, the school secretary knows everything and I mean everything.

       Last year I found out that my second grade teacher was having an affair with the gym teacher. Of course, my mom didn’t come right out and tell me this; I overheard her telling my dad. I also learned that Mr. Simon, the custodian, had brain cancer and that Darren Moer, a kid in my class, had lice again for the third time. Needless to say, having a mom as the school secretary had its perks, but it feels kind of freeing knowing that she’s a few miles away and can’t peek in the classroom at any point during the day just to see how I’m doing.

      After the last bell rang I started turning my combination lock—56 left, 13 right, 2 left—when Tabitha came up behind me and reached over and spun the lock in the wrong direction, screwing everything up. I started over and then Charlotte did the same thing. My mom was waiting outside for me and I knew she would be mad at me for taking so long. I tried to open my locker for the third time and Jordyn came up and messed me up all over again.

       I leaned my head against the locker door and tried not to cry, then I heard Gabe say, “Real mature, Jordyn.” And like it always does when I see Gabe, my stomach flipped. Gabe was sticking up for me!

       “We’re just joking around,” Jordyn said. “You’re not mad, are you, Cora?” Jordyn asked in this fakey voice. I shook my head even though I felt like slapping her. “See?” Jordyn said, looking at Gabe all innocent.

       “Here, let me help,” Gabe said. “What’s your combo?” The last thing I needed was having Jordyn know my locker combination so I waited until Jordyn left before I told him the numbers. Gabe opened my locker and said, “Just ignore her. Jordyn can be such a bitch sometimes. See you tomorrow.”

       My face was burning up I was blushing so hard. Jordyn and some of the other girls might not like me but Gabe does. I grabbed my book bag, shut my locker, and that’s when I saw Mr. Dover watching me from his classroom doorway. My stomach flipped over again, but not in a good way.

       Beth Crow

      Monday, April 16, 2018

      They load us into the back seat of a police car telling me that in the time it takes for another ambulance to arrive we can get to the hospital. I hold Violet close to me, doing my best to keep her as still as possible as we wind through the countryside. The nearest emergency room is twenty-five miles away in Grayling and the officer is determined to get us there in record time and I’m worried that the bumpy ride will injure her further.

      I’ve given up trying to find the source of the blood that blooms across her chest but am fairly confident that she isn’t bleeding anymore. Instead I focus on keeping her eyes open and on me. Violet’s skin is a scary shade of white and she seems to be floating in and out of consciousness. She isn’t going to pass out—it’s not that—but every few moments a light seems to go out behind her eyes and she disappears into some unknown, private place.

      “Violet, honey,” I say, shaking her lightly. “It’s going to be okay, I promise. Can you tell me where it hurts?” No response. “Stay awake. Keep looking at me.” Her dark lashes flutter, casting fanlike shadows across her cheeks. I smooth her hair away from her forehead and tell the officer to drive faster. My mind is swirling with questions. Who could have done this? What kind of sick monster would attack two innocent girls? The injuries on Cora are horrific. Has she made it to the emergency room already? Is she still alive? I think of her parents and wonder if they have been called. Another girl, Jordyn Petit, was supposed to be at the overnight, too. Where was she? Was she attacked, as well?

      The air is filled with the earthy, rich scent of newly tilled fields. The once hard-packed ground now loosened and velvety to the touch. So different than the red soil back home. We are approaching the city of Grayling and the officer merges onto Highway 218 and vehicles move swiftly to the right so we can pass. Signs for the University of Grayling Hospitals and Clinics let us know that we are getting close. Traffic thickens the closer we get to the hospital and despite the sirens it feels like an eternity for vehicles to get out of our way.

      Finally, we pass by a handful of restaurants, the university softball fields and a number of university buildings. We arrive at the newly constructed children’s hospital, a beautiful structure built of steel and glass that rises high above the others. The officer bypasses the main doors and drives directly to the emergency entrance. “They are expecting us,” he says, pulling to an abrupt stop.

      Three hospital workers converge upon us and Violet is carefully but firmly taken from my grasp and laid out on a stretcher. The officer reaches for my arm and Violet is whisked inside without me. “My name is Keith Grady and I’ll be right in. Keep trying to see if she can tell you anything, anything at all about what happened.”

      I nod and rush through the doors, looking left and right for any sign as to where they have taken my daughter. She’s gone. “Are you the mother?” A heavyset woman rises from behind a counter.

      “Yes,” I say. “Where is she?” My voice shakes and I press my hand against my throat as if to steady my words. “Can I be with her?”

      “The doctor is looking at her right now. Let me get some information from you and then we’ll take you back to her.” I answer her questions as quickly as possible and then take a seat to fill out the reams of paperwork. When I get to the section that asks for a list of family members I think of Max.

      I forgot about him. I pull my phone from my pocket. He still doesn’t answer and I shoot off another text to him telling him to call me immediately. “I’m going to kill him,” I mutter and am immediately sorry. How can I say something like that after what happened to Violet and Cora?

      “Ms. Crow,” the receptionist says, approaching me. “I can take you to see your daughter now.”

Скачать книгу