Read Online The Girl in the Wall by Jacquelyn Mitchard, Daphne Benedis-Grab - Free Book Online Page A

to, Hudson chose me. I mean, if I hadn’t told him about the phone who knows if we’d still be hanging out, but they don’t know that.
    The agent in the doorway shifts and we all glance over. The knots in my stomach tighten but I guess she was just stretching because she doesn’t say anything. Still, the air in the room feels different. Ella clears her throat and Trevor pulls out a sushi tray.
    “I guess we’ll just bring this out,” he says.
    The three of them head out, Ella casting one last look at Hudson, then a bleaker glance at the agents.
    “I bet I can find something in here,” Hudson says, walking over to the fridge.
    I pick up a stalk of endive with blue cheese and shaved apple. I’m curious what Hudson will come up with but I still feel too anxious to think about eating very much.
    “Victory,” he says happily, emerging from the fridge with a yellow plastic package.
    He clearly doesn’t have the same problem. What is it with guys and food?
    I stifle a laugh when I realize what he’s holding.
    “That’s Mr. Barett’s guilty pleasure,” I say.
    But as soon as I say his name there’s a weird hollowness in my stomach. Because Mr. Barett will never eat a midnight baloney sandwich again.
    “I thank him for it,” Hudson says.
    I hear a noise in the doorway and we turn again. Another agent has arrived and the two of them start talking in low voices. For a few moments I wait, to see if there’s some kind of problem, but it seems like they’re just passing time. Which is actually kind of a relief because I don’t feel quite as watched.
    “All the gourmet food here and you’re really going to eat baloney?” I ask Hudson.
    “Baloney is quality food,” he says, as he pulls on the package. It’s hard to open without a utensil but he manages.
    “I can think of a lot of food experts who would dispute that,” I say.
    “They’d be dead wrong.” He flashes me a grin. “I’m making you a sandwich too.”
    He is back at the fridge taking out lettuce, mayo, sliced cheddar, and a loaf of bread. I watch him for a moment, then notice the vase of lilacs resting on the side of the counter. I reach out and run my hand over one feathery bloom.
    “You like lilacs?” Hudson asks, laying slices of cheese on the bread.
    “They’re my favorite,” I say, leaning in to inhale their heavenly scent. It feels so good to stop thinking about the agents and Ariel and everything going on around us. I know it won’t last but I wish it could.
    Hudson whips up the sandwiches, slathering an appalling amount of mayo on the bread (which he spreads with a folded piece of bread because we can’t open a drawer for a knife), and piling each sandwich with towers of baloney. He adds lettuce and with a flourish of triumph, passes me mine on one of the small plates piled up next to the trays of food.
    I look at it unsure how to start. It looks way too big to bite as is. “I think I might need a fork or something.”
    Hudson scoffs. “You rich folks and your crazy ideas,” he says, wrapping his hands around his sandwich. “It’s simple. It’s a sandwich and you eat it with your hands.”
    “You’re rich,” I point out.
    His face seems to crumple the tiniest bit. “I guess.”
    I think about the fact that his money was earned on a lie and how much that clearly bothers him. I can think of a hundred people who couldn’t care less how their families got rich. And I realize I like the fact that he
does
care.
    “So are you going to show me how to eat this thing or what?” I ask.
    He grins and then defying both odds and gravity he manages to get the thing into his mouth and takes a huge bite.
    I carefully pick up my sandwich. A slice of baloney slithers out the back but I get the rest of it up and stuff as much as I can into my mouth.
    “There you go,” Hudson says approvingly, his mouth full.
    I chew. Hudson’s right—baloney really
is
good.
    He smiles at me. “You love it.”
    There’s no denying it as I take another