Family Storms (Storms 1) - Page 107

“You’re right. It was a terrible thing to do.”

“You didn’t seem sorry when I saw you this week.”

“I was, but I was afraid to show it.”

“Your friends mean too much to you,” I said.

He almost smiled. “You’re pretty smart, Sasha. I wasn’t with you just to do what Kiera wanted.”

“It doesn’t matter now,” I said. “How seriously ill is she?”

“I don’t know. Bad, I guess. They said she was having trouble breathing.”

“Why was she so reckless?”

“She was just intent on having the best time ever. Actually, I thought she was doing the drugs to try to break out of a depression, not to have a great time. She was acting weird to start with, so I was nervous, and then this happened. Luckily, no one else went for any of the G before she had her reaction, but they would have, I’m sure. We all could be in there,” he said, looking down and shaking his head. “Damn.”

He looked up at me. “I didn’t know the truth about you until tonight. No one except Deidre did, I guess. When Kiera told us about your mother and the accident … Well, I think what she did bothers her more than she’d ever admit, which is another reason I think she went so heavily for the G. Of course, the others, like me, were surprised to hear the details about you. It made me feel pretty lousy. All this time, I thought you were just another spoiled relative of Kiera’s. It’s a poor excuse, I know, but I just wanted to say it. If the police ask you anything, you can tell them whatever you want. I won’t deny it. Sorry,” he said again, and walked back into the emergency waiting room.

I remained outside for a while, just pacing. When I looked through the glass doors, I saw the two policemen talking to Kiera’s friends. Ricky stood up and walked out with them. He glanced my way as they led him to the patrol car. After he got into the rear, they drove off. When I turned back to the emergency room, I saw the rest of them at the door. They had been watching, too. They parted to make way for me when I entered, which was just when Mrs. March came out, too.

“Donald’s here,” she told me. “He came in through the main entrance and was brought to Kiera. He’s with her now. We’re going to wait for a specialist in a different lounge. If you want to go home, I’ll get a taxi.”

“No, I’d rather wait with you, if that’s all right.”

She looked at Kiera’s friends, and they all turned away. “I’ve very disappointed in you, Deidre. In all of you,” she added.

Deidre started to cry.

“I’m getting this in bits and pieces,” she said, turning back to me, “but I have a feeling you’ve been misjudged. Come along.”

I looked back at the others. They were like people in a desert craving some water. No one was going to talk to them to tell them anything about Kiera. I went over to Deidre.

“Mr. March is here. They’re expecting a specialist to examine Kiera.”

“Thank you,” she said. “We were told to stay here. Two other patrol cars are coming to get us, and our parents are being informed. I’m sorry about what we did to you,” she added.

I didn’t say thank you. I didn’t say she should be. I simply nodded and hurried after Mrs. March. Someone from the hospital brought us to a private room outside the hospital administrator’s office. He offered us something to drink and went off to get it.

“Donald and I make big contributions to this hospital,” Mrs. March told me as a way of explaining our VIP treatment. “We’ll soon see what good that does us.” The man returned with some coffee for her and a soft drink for me. “Please let my husband know we’re up here,” she said, and he left.

As I looked at her now, I thought back to when I had first seen her in the hospital ward. She was so elegant, impressive, and powerful. I’d had no idea who she was and why she was there, but I had sensed that she had the power to get things done. Now, sipping her coffee and curling herself in the corner of the sofa, she looked so much smaller and as pathetic as some of the homeless women Mama and I had known as regulars on the streets. When I had gotten to know some of

them, I often felt sorrier for them than I did for us. Many had children who had disowned them, or they had lost children, husbands, and all their friends. We were all hobos looking for a handout of love.

Just as I felt Mrs. March was now. It struck me that neither she nor Mr. March ever talked much about relatives. Their money and their power had lifted them into another realm, and if I did hear Mr. March talk about cousins and uncles, it was always in reference to some fear that they would be asking for money. I had never fully realized until now how lonely the three of them really were. They barely had each other, and now it was possible that after losing their younger daughter, they would lose their older one, too. As miserable as Kiera could be, she still filled some of the empty places in their lives. Their home was too kind to tragic memories. It welcomed them. They would never go away. They could live forever in the dark, empty hallways and rooms. Every shadow would protect a ghost, and there were already too many there.

“She’ll be all right,” I said.

Mrs. March nodded softly. “Why does she have to go to drugs for a good time? Why could she never see how dangerous it is?”

I didn’t know what to say to her. We both sat sipping our drinks and waiting. At one point, she looked as if she had fallen asleep. I was very tired, too, but I wouldn’t close my eyes.

I lost track of time, but finally, Mr. March, looking exhausted and defeated, that tall, self-confident posture gone, came into the lounge. His face was ashen. She looked up quickly.

“Mat Kindle is examining her,” he said. Then he noticed me. “I got Deidre aside before the police returned for her and the others,” he said. “What more can you tell us about this?”

“She wasn’t there, Donald.”

Tags: V.C. Andrews Storms
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