Chapter 142: Goodbyes
I gave Mom the silent treatment after I hung up, running to my room for a few extra things. By the time I returned downstairs, she was conspicuously absent. I waffled between angry and hurt while I glanced down at my suitcase, the hateful thing, and wished I had options.
It turned out I didn't have time to decide which one suited my mood the best. Just as I stuffed my favorite T-shirt into the front of the bag, a big black car pulled into the driveway. A limousine.
Seriously? Now I needed to get away without my parents noticing. I knew Alison's mom was pretentious, but a limo?
I unkindly wondered who she was trying to impress. This was going to be one hell of a stay.
The door slammed shut behind me, the wheels of my overnight bag humming on the pavement. The black suited driver was out of the car, holding the back door open for Mrs. Morgan as she climbed out.
What? Why? Alison was right behind her, making a terrible face like this wouldn't end well and she was already sorry.
Uh-oh. I fixed a smile on my face and stood right in the woman's path.
"Hi, Mrs. Morgan," I said, forcing cheer into my voice when cheer was the very last thing on my mind. "Thanks for picking me up."
Her answering smile was absent as her eyes roved over our house. It wasn't a mansion, but it was home and I resented every eyebrow arch the woman made.
"I'm dying to meet your mother." Mrs. Morgan's eyes finally settled on mine. "After all, I'm stealing her daughter away for a few days."
Oh crap. Alison was right. This was not good at all.
"She's pretty busy." What was it with me and weak excuses? I'd have to sit down and work on some for the future.
Mrs. Morgan brushed past me to the door. "It will only take a moment."
I followed her with great reluctance, Alison trailing behind me. She mouthed I'm sorry.
"What's going on?" I kept my volume at a tiny hiss just for her ears.
Alison looked miserable. "Mom asked me if Miriam was pretty."
Mrs. Morgan didn't even knock. Just swung the door wide and walked right in.
"That's bad?"
Alison bit her lower lip. "Very bad. Mom was a model, remember? I've seen her tear other women apart for wearing nice lip gloss."
Right. Well, this could solve my problem. In fact, I was beginning to think maybe this was a good thing. If Mrs. Morgan insulted Mom there's no way she'd let me go with Alison for the weekend.
I was pretty sure Alison's arrogant mother was about to be put firmly in her place and I wanted a front row seat for my rescue.
I stumbled in after her, Alison holding back. There in the kitchen, looking every inch her stunning self, stood my mother. She'd recovered completely since the night before, not a hint of the strain she'd been under marring her flawless face. Even while I compared the two women and gave my mom the win hands down, I hoped Mrs. Morgan would do the inappropriate and save me from having to abandon my family.
"Angela Morgan." She held out her hand to Mom, her tone bored and judging. Any second now. Fireworks. And I'd be unpacking.
"Miriam Hayle." Mom used her queenly nod. That was sure to set Mrs. Morgan off. I was so ready.
And was very disappointed when nothing exploded. Both women stared at each other for a long moment as if weighing the worthiness of the other. I could feel Alison's nails dig into my wrist and felt bad for her. Not that my friend was the type to obey the rules or anything, but if this went badly, there was a good chance Alison wouldn't be able to come visit me anymore.
Okay, that would suck. Still. Selfish, remember?
"Charming," Mrs. Morgan murmured, dropping Mom's hand.
"Indeed." Mom smiled just a little. "I'm sure Sydlynn will behave herself while in your care."
Wait. She was warning me? Whatever.
"I'll take good care of her." Mrs. Morgan touched her blonde hair, eyes narrowing a little. "What color do you use?"
Mom didn't twitch. "Natural."
The narrowing flickered wide and I finally saw a twitch of envy. Pride warred with anger. Yes, I wanted Mom to win. No, I wanted to stay home.
"Shall we, ladies?" Mrs. Morgan swept out of the kitchen, her high heels making rapid tapping sounds as she retreated. Mom approached Alison and I. She reached out and hugged my friend, kissing her softly on the cheek. Alison was very pale.
"Thanks for being nice to her." She ducked her head and escaped just as the limo let out a very loud honk.
That was my cue. Exit stage left. I hesitated, wanted to come up with something, anything to say to make Mom change her mind.
Instead, she gave me the same hug and kiss she handed out to Alison.
"Have a good time, honey."
Like that was going to happen with me worrying about the family every single minute.
It was the hardest thing I'd ever done, harder than any evil magic I'd ever faced or bully I'd weathered, turning my back on my family and walking away.
Mrs. Morgan was on the rear seat so I joined Alison on the one facing her. The woman made a face at my bag, but let it go.
The limo glided away while I struggled with tears and regret and confusion. And as much as I knew in my heart Mom was right, that in my present condition I was no good to her and was better off out of the line of fire, I still felt like a coward running away.
"Your mother is very beautiful." Mrs. Morgan's voice was soft, quiet. Alison's body jerked next to me though she hid it by shifting her body position.
"Thank you," I said. "Lucky me."
She actually laughed. "Be grateful," she said, shaking out her bleach blonde hair. "You have good genes."
She had no idea.
I was ready for a fight about the whole condition I'd leveraged, but to my surprise and relief the big car turned off at the hospital. Alison's face scrunched up and she looked out the window, refusing to meet my eyes.
Mrs. Morgan just watched me with a flat expression. I knew she judged me from behind.
"Alison said you wanted to visit someone first." Her long fingernails tapped on the case of her smartphone. "Don't be long."
Or what? They'd leave without me? Tempting. I glanced at Alison who refused to acknowledge what I was about to do. Fine then. She could stay.
My little pow-wow with Pain would go much more smoothly without my best friend there anyway.
The air outside the car was heavy, almost thick. I glanced up at the sky, but it seemed cloud free, almost over bright. Still, something about it felt as near to scary as full daylight could get, and I found myself hurrying over the short stretch of pavement and through the front doors.
I breathed a sigh of relief as they hissed shut behind me, even the cold and stinking air of the hospital an improvement. I flinched from a spirit, a thin woman with half a face, as she whispered her confusion and reached for me.
Damned hospitals. Gathered spirit imprints like fruit flies in a wine glass. I may have been cut off from my power, but for some reason I could still see the imprints left behind when people died. Worse than before, for some reason. Usually they were feelings, clouds of cold and despair. Now I was seeing them as clearly as if they were real. That hardly seemed fair.
The one thing I could do without. Nice.
I did my best to not react as I dodged the odd floating specters, remembering the last time I'd been here was for Suzanne. It seemed a lifetime ago. I forced a smile at the candy striper behind the desk.
"I'm looking for," my brain paused as I realized Pain would be there under her real name, "Mia. Mia Hammond."
She smiled at me, braces sparkling, before turning to the computer. Her face fell, smile dropping away. "She's in a restricted unit."
Psych ward. Had to be. "It's really important I talk to her."
The girl shrugged, then sighed and picked up the phone. "Just a second."
I found my right knee jiggling with impatience while the girl in the pink and white striped apron talked to someone on the other end.
"Hi, I have a visitor for Mia Hammond. Yes, I know. Is she? Okay, I'll let her know." Her smile was back. "Miss Hammond can have visitors today." The girl handed me a slip of paper with a number on it. "Down the hall, turn right, elevator to the sixth floor."
I shook the entire trip. Partly because I didn't know what I was going to say to Pain, and partly because there was a sweet kid in the elevator with me who kept trying to win my attention. Only problem? He was clearly a ghost, his spectral body in bloody, oozing pieces. And while I couldn't hear him speak, it was obvious he wanted to play catch with his detached hand.
I practically ran into Mrs. Hammond when I dodged through the opening doors on my way out. She let out a little shriek before hugging me.
"Sydlynn." She released me, glanced into the elevator as the doors slid shut, her face falling. I remembered Alison's saving grace for Suzanne's mom and used it.
"They don't know if it's okay yet," I said. "They wanted to make sure she was up to it. I'm the test."
Mrs. Hammond's smile came back, tired and strained as it was. "Please, come in."
She hooked her arm through mine, leading me toward a sitting area outside a bank of double doors. Big windows allowed in the maximum sunlight, dust motes sliding through the air on giant beams. Green and blue plastic upholstered chairs, looking like seventies throwbacks, were clustered around the entry. I spotted a familiar head of black hair as we approached the windows.
Clear blue eyes lifted to mine as Mrs. Hammond let me go.
"Honey," she said, "look who's here!"
Pain lifted one hand, fingers limp, face expressionless. I sank into the seat beside her, squeezing her hand in mine.
"Hey," I said, my voice almost a whisper. Somehow it seemed more appropriate than Mrs. Hammond's false enthusiasm.
"Syd," Pain whispered, gaze locked on me. "I'm so glad you came."
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