Read Online Be Not Afraid by Cecilia Galante - Free Book Online Page B

him or charged at him with some kind of sharp object? What made someone want to go into this line of work? What made someone keep coming
back
to work like this?
    The doors opened again, and the attendant stepped out into a bare hallway. “She’s at the end of the hall,” he said, looking at Dominic. “You know where to go.”
    By now my armpits were sweating, the tips of my fingers ice cold. I stared at the series of van Gogh prints on the wall
—Starry Night, Sunflowers, Sidewalk Café at Arles
—and wondered if the people who decorated this place knew that van Gogh had been out of his mind, too, or if it was just a sad coincidence. The hallway was nothing like the waiting room downstairs. Except for the paintings, it was almost bare. Vivid white walls, no greenery or plants. The linoleum, a smudged creamy color, was littered with footprints, and the absence of windows cast a gray tint over everything.
    “Who’s with her?” I asked, my nerves getting the best of me. “I mean right now. Who’s back there with Cassie?”
    Dominic slowed, falling back into step alongside me. “Just my parents.”
    I nodded. I had never met Mr. or Mrs. Jackson. They had been out of the country in October when everything happened at their house, and I still wasn’t sure if they knew about any of it.
    “They just got here this afternoon,” Dominic said. “They were in Florida at our time-share.” He lowered his voice. “They’re not very happy.”
    I looked over at him curiously. They weren’t very happy about what, exactly? That their daughter was in a mental hospital? Or that they’d had to cut their vacation short? I kept my mouth shut. It wasn’t any of my business what kind of parents they were. Although maybe, just maybe, it explained a few other things.
    Cassie’s room was at the very end, a wing all its own, complete with a small waiting area in the front and a private bathroom. One of the pale blue walls had been decorated with a poster of a small kitten hanging from a rope. Beneath the kitten’s dangling feet was the adage,
When you come to the end of your rope, tie a knot and hang on!
Two adults stood up from a couch against the other wall as Dominic and I approached. I could feel the suggestion of Dominic’s first two fingers against the small of my back as he moved me toward them, and I tried to breathe normally.
    “Mom, Dad, this is Marin.”
    “You’re Marin?” Mrs. Jackson spoke first, looking meup and down with a sweep of her eyes. She was expensively dressed: a yellow silk blouse, close-fitting black pants cinched with a leather belt, high black heels. She had beautiful auburn hair, which had been twisted up and anchored in the back, and her ears were adorned with large pearl studs.
    “Yes. Nice to meet you.” I tried not to stare at the orange ball beneath her blouse, which appeared to be moving up and down inside her stomach. I’d seen one like this before in a student at school, but it was nowhere near as big. This one was enormous, and the center was almost brown, as if it was starting to rot from the inside out. I was pretty sure it was an ulcer.
    “You as well.” Mrs. Jackson shook my hand stiffly. “Are you a new friend of Cassandra’s? I don’t know if I’ve ever heard your name before.”
    “Not really.” I shook my head. “I mean, we know each other from school. A little.”
    “Oh.” Mrs. Jackson looked even more puzzled.
    “Thank you so much for coming.” Mr. Jackson stepped forward, his hand extended. “It means a lot.” I shook it, marveling at the enormity of his fingers, the width of his palm. Like his wife, Mr. Jackson was dressed well—navy blue pants, a white-and-blue-checkered dress shirt, and jacket. He looked like Dominic but older, with gray hair around his ears and deep lines in his cheeks. Handsome to a fault. “Ever since we got here, all she’s been saying is that she wants to talk to you.”
    “Yes.” Mrs. Jackson tilted her head to one side. “What in