and lock up the silverware." What Miranda felt like doing was running downstairs and out the door, back over to Dan's house.
"What do you mean, she's not there?" Philip reached past her and pushed open the door to Abby's room. He flicked on the light switch.
Abby lifted her tousled head from the pillows and stared at them, blinking in the sudden blaze of light. "Whatâ?" she asked in a thick voice, though whether the thickness was from tears or tiredness, Miranda could not say.
Miranda's heart thumped in her chest.
What is going on?
Helen hurried to her side. "Are you all right, Abby?"
"Oh, yes," she mumbled. "The bed's very comfortable."
"Miranda thought she heard you crying," said Philip from the doorway.
Miranda could see Abby's face in the moonlight as she blinked at them from the bed. Her cheeks were red and her eyes were bright, surely signs that she had been crying. "She did?" asked Abby. "She heard crying?"
"Please come to us if you need anything," Philip said. "Anything at all."
Abby stared at Miranda. "IâI will. But I'm fine. Thank you."
"Sorry to bother you," said Philip, and he ushered Helen and Miranda out into the hall. He closed Abby's door gently. "Now what was that all about, Mandy?"
"She was crying. I heard her," said Miranda flatly. "And then when I looked in the room, her bed was empty."
"Oh, Mandy." Helen shook her head. "Getting us all upset about nothing at all."
"Nothing at all? Mither, I'm telling you, her bed was
empty!
"
"I think we're all tired," said her father. "Let's go to bed now. We can talk more about all of this in the morning." He headed for the master bedroom. "If we must."
Miranda stomped down the hall to her own room. She slammed her door and leaned against it, trembling. From behind her closed door she could hear her parents out in the hall.
"Mandy's just fanciful," Helen said to Philip.
"Well, it's not like her at all. Do you think she's jealous because we're going to try to help the poor girl out for a while?"
Then their door clicked shut, leaving Miranda standing in silence, her fists balled tightly at her sides.
Abby wasn't thereâshe wasn't, she wasn't.
The words slid through Miranda's mind, wormlike, insidious, and the anger and hurt were replaced by fear. Abby had been crying. She had not been in the room. Then she had reappearedâas if out of thin air.
But that's impossible.
First the vanishing footprints, and now this.
The bubble of fear deep inside expanded with each breath Miranda took, and one question pumped in her ears with her heartbeat:
What in the world is going on?
Chapter Six
I N THE MORNING Miranda blocked the bathroom door while Abby was brushing her teeth. Abby's long hair was tied back from her face with a faded pink ribbon. In the too long, white flannel nightgown, borrowed from Miranda, she looked very small and innocentâalmost angelic. But Miranda was not fooled.
"I want to know what's going on." Miranda's voice held all the pent-up hostility and fear of the past night.
"I'm brushing my teeth. That's what's going on. What do you think?" Abby rinsed her mouth and patted her lips with a towel.
Miranda stepped into the room. "I heard you crying. And then you weren't there. So where were you? You'd better tell me, orâ"
"Or what?" Abby smirked. "See how I'm shaking? Trembling with terror of what you might do." She reached back to untie the pink ribbon and shook her hair over her shoulders. Her eyes met Miranda's in the mirror over the sink. "There is no way in the world you could have heard me crying, Miranda Browne. So just put it out of your head. You imagined the whole thing." There was a challenge in Abby's expression, frighteningly at odds with the angelic hair and heart-shaped, pale face.
Miranda stamped out of the room, unsure how to meet that challenge. Abby's laughter followed her down the hall.
Abby settled in quickly, much too quickly as far as Miranda was concerned. Helen moved her files and medical
"What do you mean, she's not there?" Philip reached past her and pushed open the door to Abby's room. He flicked on the light switch.
Abby lifted her tousled head from the pillows and stared at them, blinking in the sudden blaze of light. "Whatâ?" she asked in a thick voice, though whether the thickness was from tears or tiredness, Miranda could not say.
Miranda's heart thumped in her chest.
What is going on?
Helen hurried to her side. "Are you all right, Abby?"
"Oh, yes," she mumbled. "The bed's very comfortable."
"Miranda thought she heard you crying," said Philip from the doorway.
Miranda could see Abby's face in the moonlight as she blinked at them from the bed. Her cheeks were red and her eyes were bright, surely signs that she had been crying. "She did?" asked Abby. "She heard crying?"
"Please come to us if you need anything," Philip said. "Anything at all."
Abby stared at Miranda. "IâI will. But I'm fine. Thank you."
"Sorry to bother you," said Philip, and he ushered Helen and Miranda out into the hall. He closed Abby's door gently. "Now what was that all about, Mandy?"
"She was crying. I heard her," said Miranda flatly. "And then when I looked in the room, her bed was empty."
"Oh, Mandy." Helen shook her head. "Getting us all upset about nothing at all."
"Nothing at all? Mither, I'm telling you, her bed was
empty!
"
"I think we're all tired," said her father. "Let's go to bed now. We can talk more about all of this in the morning." He headed for the master bedroom. "If we must."
Miranda stomped down the hall to her own room. She slammed her door and leaned against it, trembling. From behind her closed door she could hear her parents out in the hall.
"Mandy's just fanciful," Helen said to Philip.
"Well, it's not like her at all. Do you think she's jealous because we're going to try to help the poor girl out for a while?"
Then their door clicked shut, leaving Miranda standing in silence, her fists balled tightly at her sides.
Abby wasn't thereâshe wasn't, she wasn't.
The words slid through Miranda's mind, wormlike, insidious, and the anger and hurt were replaced by fear. Abby had been crying. She had not been in the room. Then she had reappearedâas if out of thin air.
But that's impossible.
First the vanishing footprints, and now this.
The bubble of fear deep inside expanded with each breath Miranda took, and one question pumped in her ears with her heartbeat:
What in the world is going on?
Chapter Six
I N THE MORNING Miranda blocked the bathroom door while Abby was brushing her teeth. Abby's long hair was tied back from her face with a faded pink ribbon. In the too long, white flannel nightgown, borrowed from Miranda, she looked very small and innocentâalmost angelic. But Miranda was not fooled.
"I want to know what's going on." Miranda's voice held all the pent-up hostility and fear of the past night.
"I'm brushing my teeth. That's what's going on. What do you think?" Abby rinsed her mouth and patted her lips with a towel.
Miranda stepped into the room. "I heard you crying. And then you weren't there. So where were you? You'd better tell me, orâ"
"Or what?" Abby smirked. "See how I'm shaking? Trembling with terror of what you might do." She reached back to untie the pink ribbon and shook her hair over her shoulders. Her eyes met Miranda's in the mirror over the sink. "There is no way in the world you could have heard me crying, Miranda Browne. So just put it out of your head. You imagined the whole thing." There was a challenge in Abby's expression, frighteningly at odds with the angelic hair and heart-shaped, pale face.
Miranda stamped out of the room, unsure how to meet that challenge. Abby's laughter followed her down the hall.
Abby settled in quickly, much too quickly as far as Miranda was concerned. Helen moved her files and medical
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