The Fallen Star
Page 14
Stephan. There was that name again. The same one I’d heard him mention during my eavesdropping session in the library.
“That’s not what you’re doing,” she snapped. “You’re crossing a line Alex. A very, very, thin, dangerous line. ”
“I think you’re forgetting that I don’t take my orders from you. ” Alex’s lowered his voice, and I had to lean forward on my tiptoes in order to make out what he said. “I’ll do what I need to do in order to get her to—”
I lost my balance and, being the graceful queen that I was, stumbled forward, banging my elbow into the wall, hard. “Ah!” I cried out, and then threw my hand over my mouth. Crap.
A few moments of silence ticked by. Had they heard me? Of course they’d heard me. They weren’t deaf.
“Gemma,” Sophia called out.
Crap. Now what?
Rubbing my elbow, I slowly made my way down the rest of the stairs, my legs feeling like two flimsy wet noodles beneath my weight.
Sophia was waiting for me at the bottom, hands on her hips, her eyes a fiery bright gold. “What in the world are you doing?” she asked.
I pressed my lips together and looked over at Alex. He was casually leaning against the front door, his arms folded across his chest. He met my gaze, appearing not the slightest bit concerned. But with what I’d just heard them talking about, it seemed like he should be.
I turned my attention back to Sophia. Every once in a while, when she got really, really mad, this faint bluish-purple vein would pop out on her forehead. Right now, I could see it bulging underneath her pale skin.
“I came down to get something to eat like you told me to,” I told her, still staring at the vein. It reminded me of a gross, bluish-purple worm.
“Gemma, what on earth are you looking at!” Sophia barked.
I flinched and shook my head. “What’s going on here between you two?” I asked her. “And why were you guys talking about me like that?”
She gave me a patronizing look. “Like what, Gemma?”
“Like, you know. ” I waved my hand in the air, trying to come up with a word to sum up what I’d just heard. Problem was I wasn’t sure what I’d just hear.
Alex shifted his weight away from the door and raised his eyebrows questioningly at me.
What were they trying to do here? Make me look like a crazy idiot? Because they were doing a pretty good job of it.
“Look, I don’t know what you think you heard,” Sophia said, her tone tolerant. “But we weren’t talking about you. I know Alex’s father, and I was just telling him to pass along a message for me. ”
My anger simmered. She was such a liar. “That’s such bull. You were talking about me. I heard you. ”
She waved her finger at me furiously. “You better watch your tone young lady. I mean it. ” I opened my mouth to say a few choice words that I think, under the circumstances, would have been totally appropriate, but she cut me off before I could even get the first one out. “Now, I don’t know why on earth you think you have the right to listen in on other people’s conversation, but you need to stop. Do you understand me?”
I eyed her over suspiciously. Was there a hidden meaning to her words? Did she know what happened at the library? But if she did, who told her?
I think I had a guess.
Without another word, I pushed by her, heading for the kitchen. Before I disappeared through the doorway, I glanced back at Alex.
Now he looked worried.
Chapter 10
The next morning, I woke up with red, swollen eyes.
I hadn’t wanted to cry last night, but I’d ended up doing it anyway.
I’d cried myself to sleep.
Now I could barely open my eyes.
I glanced at the clock and saw a blurry 12:10. 12:10 in the afternoon? What the heck? Why hadn’t my alarm gone off?
I sat up and stretched out my arms. Well, so much for school.
But why had Sophia let me sleep in? Yeah, I know last night had been super intense. Still, letting me skip out on school…She never let me miss school.
I climbed out of bed, put on a black long sleeve shirt and a pair of worn-out jeans, and pulled my hair into a messy ponytail. Then I went downstairs. It was quiet. Too quiet for anyone to be home.
So, I was alone.
I wasn’t sure how I felt about that.
Just to make sure, I searched the living room and the kitchen. Both were empty. And Sophia and Marco’s car wasn’t in the driveway. Yep, they were definitely gone. How convenient for them. Maybe that’s why no one had gotten me up for school. Perhaps they were trying to avoid me so they wouldn’t have to answer questions about last night.
Outside, the sky was grayed over by clouds. Not a single speck of sunlight trickled through, making everything dark and gloomy. Between the darkness and the emptiness of the house, I felt unsettled.
I flipped on the light and made myself a turkey sandwich. I decided to eat in my room because locking myself in there seemed better than sitting out in the open, where anything from the yellow-eyed monsters to Sophia and/or Alex could walk in at any moment and take me by surprise.
Sprawled out on my bed, with my music cranked, I tried to analyze what could be going on between Sophia and Alex. What had last night meant? They’d said so many strange things. Things I was convinced had to do with me. But how was I supposed to find out for sure?
Suddenly, out of nowhere, I had an epiphany. The house was empty and I needed answers. And what better way to find out answers then to snoop around a little. Yes, I know, snooping is very wrong, blah, blah, blah, but so is eavesdropping, which is something I’ve done on more than one occasion. Besides, if it wouldn’t have been for my bad habit of listening in on other peoples’ conversations, I wouldn’t have found out that Alex could feel the electricity too. And that he thought I was the one that was causing it. Plus, I’d found out all that other stuff. (I say other stuff because I have no idea what that “stuff” is exactly).
Besides, I’m not a firm believer in the whole ignorance is bliss motto. I needed to know, even if it turned out to be something bad.
Without any further indecisiveness, I hopped off my bed and went into Marco and Sophia’s room. I’d only been in their room a couple of times—and never by myself. But every time, I’d felt uncomfortable. But being in here now, all alone, was way worse. The place was really creeping me out. It felt like I’d stepped into a cemetery in the late hours of the night, instead of into my grandparents’ room midday.
Although the creepy factor might have been coming from Sophia’s perfectionist touch. Every single thing in the room was perfectly in place. And almost everything matched. The white four post bed matched the armoire and the nightstand. The pink bedspread coordinated flawlessly with the roses on the wallpaper. The bed skirt and the curtains were made of the same frilly lace. There was no clutter anywhere. The whole room was probably about as sterile as a hospital, which had me a bit worried. If I touched something, would she be able to tell? Maybe. I guess I’d just have to be careful.
Very, very careful.
I decided to check the closet first because…well, I’m not sure why other than it seemed like just as good a spot to start with as any.
Moments later, I ran into a problem. I realized I had no clue what exactly it was I was looking for. Still, I didn’t want to just give up. So I continued to search through the massive amounts of clothes hanging up in the closet, and through the shoe boxes that were stacked on the closet floor, hoping that I’d know what “it” was when I found it.
But when I’d finished looking through everything, I came up empty-handed.
Whatever I was looking for wasn’t in the closet.
I moved on to the armoire, then the night stand. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary, though. I even checked under the bed, despite the fact that I knew I wouldn’t find anything under it.
Neat freaks never put th
ings under their bed.
I let out a frustrated sigh. I should’ve known this would be a waste of time. I mean what had I expected to find? A secret letter explaining what was going on. Yeah, right. Like that would ever happen.
Nothing is ever that easy.
Giving up, I headed to leave. But I slowed to a stop when I spotted a wood bench, lined with throw pillows. There was a small latch on the front of it. As good of a place as any to hide something, right?
I carefully removed the pillows from the bench, and then held my breath as I unlatched the lock. I half expected an alarm to go off or something, but the only sound it made was from the hinges squeaking when I lifted open the lid.
Inside were books, old photos of Sophia and Marco in various places, a box of pressed flowers, some ribbons and cards. Nothing unusual, or at least that’s what I thought until I picked up the final object—a glass swan with a bright orange beak—and noticed the floor of the bench rocked slightly. Setting the swan aside, I used the palm of my hand to put pressure on the board. It popped up on one side, and. . . . Ta-da! A secret compartment. Whatever I was looking for had to be in there. It just had to be.
I removed the board the rest of the way and found a single manila envelope hiding beneath it. My hands started to sweat as I picked up the envelope. This was it. This was what would give me my answers.
I unwound the piece of string that sealed the envelope shut. The very first thing I came across was the papers stating that Marco and Sophia had custody of me.
Well, so much for my kidnapping theory.
I sifted to the next item; a piece of blue-lined paper with my name and a list of dates written on it in red ink. I recognized the flawless handwriting as Sophia’s. There were five dates total, all seeming random with no visible order. At least from what I could tell, anyway. The oldest date dated back nearly fourteen years ago, and each had a check mark next to it, except for one. February 8 of this year.
My heart stopped.
I couldn’t breathe.
Okay, so you’re probably wondering why I was freaking out. And, trust me, I was majorly freaking out. To you, I’m sure the date seemed completely ordinary. But to me it wasn’t. It was a more significant date than even my birthday. That’s because February 8th was the precise date I’d first felt the prickle that had released my emotions.
I felt sick to my stomach. Why would Sophia have written this down? And what did these other dates mean? None of them held any importance, at least as far as I knew.
I pressed my clammy hand to my forehead. I had a headache. A big, full of confusion, headache.
But I needed to get it together and figure out more.
I took a deep breath and looked at the next paper, a cream colored one with a gold border. My Birth Certificate. My fingers trembled as I read my mother’s name listed at the bottom. Jocelyn Lucas. It was the first time I’d ever known her name, yet it felt as familiar as my own. It was a beautiful name. I bet she was beautiful too. My stomach fluttered with excitement as I skimmed over to the line beside it—the one where my father’s name was listed. Or should have been listed. It was blank. My heart sank. Why would it be blank? I had to have a father. What, had he not wanted me or something? No. That couldn’t be it. Sophia and Marco had told me that both of my parents had died in a car accident, which meant they still had to have been together—we had to have been a family, right? I wasn’t sure. I wasn’t sure of anything.