into bed. I started thinking about what Gage had told me about his situation.
What was troubled about his background? I could tell by the way he was acting there was something. Why had he lived with his grandparents? When we were little, he just said his mom died and that had been that. Back then with his stutter I had never pushed him to talk. Now I wanted to know. I wanted him to want to tell me. Whatever it was, it probably wasn’t good.
#
A girl’s voice. “Wake up.” I pull myself into a sitting position. “Here.” She shoves a water bottle into my hand. “There isn’t time. Do what he says. Exactly what he says and he might not hurt you.”
“How long have you been here?” I ask.
“Too long. I think he’s done with me now. Drink.”
I don’t really want to know what she means. I drink.
Chapter 11
When I woke up the next day, I had a text from Jackson. He had heard about the police interview. Did anyone around here ever keep their mouths shut about anything?
What’s going on? Heard about what happened. Are u ok? Do I need to come home?
Jeremiah had actually called, but I had been in the shower. He left a message saying if I didn’t call him back, they were going to check with the ’rents to see if everything was under control. He sounded worried. Gotta love my brothers. I texted them both back that I was fine and told them exactly what happened.
I did demand that they make it to our Friday night dinner this week. I hoped to work on the Gage situation when my parents were relaxed and enjoying a nice dinner. Not to mention being in a public place, where yelling would be frowned upon. Maybe the boys being there would help too. I would have to work on them both this week by text to try to get them to see my side before the dinner. I could almost always talk them into seeing things my way.
People always ask why I get along so well with my brothers and why it seems like they would do anything for me when most brothers can’t be bothered. We fight, but generally they don’t give me as hard a time as other people’s brothers do to their sisters. They are also a lot more overprotective than most. They have always taken me with them wherever they go unless they are on a date, and sometimes even then. My parents are crazy with the overprotectiveness because I make them worry. My brothers are overprotective out of guilt. Or at least that’s how it started. See, they lost me once.
Obviously they got me back again, but still. We were pretty little, and I don’t even remember, but they do. I had heard the story a million times.
They were six and I was four. We were in a hotel in the Caribbean. My dad brought us all with him to a medical conference. We did this once or twice a year. My parents had been pretty easygoing until then. They worried about me getting sick of course, but this was when the real paranoia started. We had had the run of the hotel for days. It was laid-back there. On this particular day my brothers and I had been running ahead of my mom, and the three of us got on the elevator before her. The doors closed, and the boys decided to Christmas tree the buttons so it stopped at every floor. You are supposed to do this after you get to the bottom, but they were young and didn’t know any better. So we were stopping at every floor, and I decided to get out for some reason. The boys weren’t paying attention, and the doors closed.
When my mom found them at the bottom, they had no idea which floor I was on. It was a big hotel, and we had been on one of the top floors. She went into a complete panic. They shut down the exits of the hotel, but it took a while. They called my dad out of the conference. Notified security and the police were eventually called. There was talk of abduction. There had been some cases of missing children in the area that year. Some “kind” person at the hotel informed my parents of a horrible story about two little girls from the island that had gone
What was troubled about his background? I could tell by the way he was acting there was something. Why had he lived with his grandparents? When we were little, he just said his mom died and that had been that. Back then with his stutter I had never pushed him to talk. Now I wanted to know. I wanted him to want to tell me. Whatever it was, it probably wasn’t good.
#
A girl’s voice. “Wake up.” I pull myself into a sitting position. “Here.” She shoves a water bottle into my hand. “There isn’t time. Do what he says. Exactly what he says and he might not hurt you.”
“How long have you been here?” I ask.
“Too long. I think he’s done with me now. Drink.”
I don’t really want to know what she means. I drink.
Chapter 11
When I woke up the next day, I had a text from Jackson. He had heard about the police interview. Did anyone around here ever keep their mouths shut about anything?
What’s going on? Heard about what happened. Are u ok? Do I need to come home?
Jeremiah had actually called, but I had been in the shower. He left a message saying if I didn’t call him back, they were going to check with the ’rents to see if everything was under control. He sounded worried. Gotta love my brothers. I texted them both back that I was fine and told them exactly what happened.
I did demand that they make it to our Friday night dinner this week. I hoped to work on the Gage situation when my parents were relaxed and enjoying a nice dinner. Not to mention being in a public place, where yelling would be frowned upon. Maybe the boys being there would help too. I would have to work on them both this week by text to try to get them to see my side before the dinner. I could almost always talk them into seeing things my way.
People always ask why I get along so well with my brothers and why it seems like they would do anything for me when most brothers can’t be bothered. We fight, but generally they don’t give me as hard a time as other people’s brothers do to their sisters. They are also a lot more overprotective than most. They have always taken me with them wherever they go unless they are on a date, and sometimes even then. My parents are crazy with the overprotectiveness because I make them worry. My brothers are overprotective out of guilt. Or at least that’s how it started. See, they lost me once.
Obviously they got me back again, but still. We were pretty little, and I don’t even remember, but they do. I had heard the story a million times.
They were six and I was four. We were in a hotel in the Caribbean. My dad brought us all with him to a medical conference. We did this once or twice a year. My parents had been pretty easygoing until then. They worried about me getting sick of course, but this was when the real paranoia started. We had had the run of the hotel for days. It was laid-back there. On this particular day my brothers and I had been running ahead of my mom, and the three of us got on the elevator before her. The doors closed, and the boys decided to Christmas tree the buttons so it stopped at every floor. You are supposed to do this after you get to the bottom, but they were young and didn’t know any better. So we were stopping at every floor, and I decided to get out for some reason. The boys weren’t paying attention, and the doors closed.
When my mom found them at the bottom, they had no idea which floor I was on. It was a big hotel, and we had been on one of the top floors. She went into a complete panic. They shut down the exits of the hotel, but it took a while. They called my dad out of the conference. Notified security and the police were eventually called. There was talk of abduction. There had been some cases of missing children in the area that year. Some “kind” person at the hotel informed my parents of a horrible story about two little girls from the island that had gone
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