Garden of Lies by Eileen Goudge Page A

Marie’s side of the closet, the empty hangers swung together with a hollow metallic ticking as
    Rose hung up her sweater.
    It was as if Marie had died. Rose shivered and, only half-aware of what she was doing, made
    the sign of the cross.
    Then, crouching on the floor, she peeled back a frayed edge of the mustard-brown carpeting
    that had come untacked. Underneath was a loose floorboard. She found the metal nail file she
    kept in the bottom dresser drawer, and pried up the loose board with it. Underneath was a space
    just big enough for an old metal Band-Aid box. Her secret place. No one else knew about it. Not
    Marie. Not even Brian.
    Rose opened the Band-Aid box, and shook out a lump of gray cotton. Slowly, she unwrapped
    it, revealing the glittering treasure hidden within.
    A ruby earring, gleaming in her hand like a frozen drop of blood.
    The memory came rushing back. Seven years ago—had it been that long? She saw it in her
    mind as clearly as if it were happening now. The elegant lady in the mink coat. Rose had seen her
    standing just outside the schoolyard fence one day. She didn’t look like any of the mothers. More
    like a queen. Or a mysterious movie star, in that beautiful mink coat, and a hat with a little veil
    that dipped over her eyes.
    Then she’d realized those mysterious eyes underneath the veil were staring at her. At first Rose
    had been sure she was wrong. She’d even glanced back over her shoulder to see if there was
    someone behind her. But, no, the lady was looking straight at her. Her eyes big and somehow
    wet-looking, like the clear green marbles in her collection, the ones that were worth ten cat’s
    eyes.
    Rose cautiously drew a little closer. Sad and lost, that’s how the lady looked. But it didn’t
    make any sense. Why should she be? Someone dressed as beautiful as that had to be rich, and
    rich people [63] never had worries like the grown-ups Rose knew. It was a cold day, and the lady
    seemed to shiver, drawing her mink coat more tightly about her. Ruby earrings twinkled in her
    ears. What could she want?
    As Rose came through the gate amid the noisy, jostling throng of classmates, the woman took
    several jerky steps forward, crying out in a thin strangled voice, “Wait!”
    Startled, Rose paused, remembering that she’d been told by Nonnie and the Sisters, not once
    but at least fifty times, never ever to talk to strangers. But somehow she couldn’t run away. Her
    saddle shoes felt as if they were stuck onto the sidewalk. Her arms and legs frozen in place.
    Rose waited, as if hypnotized by that beautiful, somehow haunted face, its fragile bones jutting
    from pale creamy skin. Soft hair, the color of autumn leaves, floated over her fur collar. Rose was
    reminded of a snowflake that would melt if she touched it. The woman’s flowerlike mouth
    trembled. Her eyes brimmed with tears. She seemed on the verge of speaking, but she pulled back
    abruptly as if she’d changed her mind.
    Instead, she reached up with a gloved hand—it had been trembling, Rose remembered—and
    unscrewed the ruby from her right ear.
    As Rose stood there, too shocked to protest, the lady pressed the tiny earring, icy cold, into her
    palm. Then she had run off, high heels clattering on the frozen sidewalk, ducking into a long
    sleek limousine that waited at the curb, disappearing as if in a puff of smoke.
    Rose had been sure of it. The lady was her Guardian Angel. Everyone had one, Sister Perpetua
    said. But Rose hadn’t believed it was true for her ... until that day.
    And now she had the earring to prove it.
    Rose held it up to the light, a ruby in the shape of a teardrop dangling from a tiny gold and
    diamond stud. Even in the dim room, it blazed with a light of its own, causing Rose to suck her
    breath in with wonder even though she’d looked at it a hundred times. Yes, magic. Heaven-sent
    magic.
    And she needed its magic now, more than ever.
    “Don’t leave me, Bri,” she whispered, clenching it tightly