Mind Games (12 page)

Some sort of accident.

Some sort of accident.

Some sort of accident.

My brain sticks on that phrase, like a skipping CD, repeating it over and over.

“We didn’t know about you and your sister then,” Ms. Robertson says from behind me. “In your case it was your parents’ accident and the news story about the blind girl who saw it that caught our attention.”

I laugh. It’s high and fast and strange. “Well, then, that’s all right. I’ll set a gas fire, maybe? Blow them all up! Then it would
be efficient
and
pretty. And the girl—Sadie?—we can roast marshmallows before skipping back here and introducing her to her new home!”

“Sofia,” Clarice says, and her voice is low with warning.

“Clarice,” I answer, and my voice is not low with warning—my voice is high with giddy hysteria, but my eyes are knives. “I’m not doing it.”

“That’s not an option.”

I stand up, kick my chair over. It skitters across the floor and crashes into the wall. She jumps, stands, and backs away. I like that she’s scared of me.

“I’m going back to my room now. I’ll keep playing your stupid stocks games or your sick little physical challenges because I don’t have anywhere else to go. But if you think for one second I am
ever
hurting someone for you again, you’re wrong. I won’t do it.
And you can’t make me
.”

I turn and walk past Ms. Robertson, thinking CONTROL as loudly as I can at her.

“We’ll see,” Clarice says, her soft voice carrying through to the hall. “Remember. It’s your choice that did this. You did this.”

She’s crazy. Crazy crazy. And I don’t care. I skip down the wide, empty hallway, singing at the top of my lungs. I know I’m not free yet, but I feel like I am. This feeling, this huge horrible wrong nagging feeling I’ve had since I was twelve will go away
and I’ll be able to breathe, I’ll be able to think, I’ll be able to use whatever it is they think I have for myself. I’ll use it to make my own path. I’ll never do it for anyone else, not ever again.

But the wrong feeling is getting wronger. I feel like the ground has been pulled out from underneath me. My heart races. I can’t breathe. Something is wrong.

It’s wrong wrong wrong WRONG WRONG WRONG! I need to find Annie.

I race up the stairs, through the hall, burst through her door. She’s there. Annie’s there, in her room, she’s okay, what’s wrong?

She’s sitting on her bed. Her face is blank.

“Are you okay? Annie?”

“I saw myself.” Her voice is as blank as her face.

“You—what?”

“I saw myself. In a vision. At first I thought it was you, but the hair was too short.” She lifts a hand to her hair that hits at her shoulders. “And the eyes were different. But it looked so much like you. Then I realized. It was me. I finally saw what I look like.”

I sit down, still dizzy with panic. “Told you you’re beautiful.” What is wrong? Nothing is wrong here. Why isn’t my body calming down?

She doesn’t react. “I was dead.”

I can’t breathe. I can’t breathe, I can’t breathe. “What?”

“I was dead. There was a hole in my head. A perfect red hole. And my hair, it’s darker than I thought it was, it was all tangled up in the blood on the floor. There wasn’t as much blood as you’d think there would be. I was dead. They killed me.” She closes her eyes. “I’m going to die.”

“How would that happen? How would that even—”

I said no.

I told them no.

I thought I was in control.

They are always in control.

“What else? Any other details? Any other details at all? Do you know when it happens? Where? Anything!” She doesn’t react, so I grab her shoulders, shake her. “TELL ME ANYTHING. GIVE ME SOMETHING.”

“How can I tell you where it happens? I’ve never seen the room before. I’ve never seen
any
rooms before.” She laughs drily. “The only other detail was Clarice. She was standing next to my body, talking to someone on the phone.”

“Did she shoot you?”

“I don’t know.”

My heart picks up. Races. Don’t plan. Don’t plan. “But she was there? In the room?”

“Yes.”

I run out. Back down the stairs. I don’t think. I don’t plan. I just run. Back to the classroom. Clarice is still there. She looks
up at me, a single eyebrow raised. “Have you changed your mind then?”

I pick up the chair on the ground, still against the wall where I kicked it. I lift it and spin and smash it into Clarice’s head.

She doesn’t even have time to look surprised.

I smash it on her again and again and again.

And then I stop and drop the chair and sink to the floor. Clarice’s lifeless eyes stare at me from her bloodied and ruined head.

If Clarice is dead, she can’t be there when Annie gets shot. That can’t happen now.

It won’t happen now.

Annie is safe.

Annie is safe.
Annie is safe. Annie is safe. Annie is safe. Annie is safe. Annie is safe. Annie is safe. Annie is safe. Annie is safe. Annie is safe. Annie is safe. Annie is safe.

ANNIE

Monday Evening

I KNOW ALL MY INTERNET ACTIVITY IS MONITORED and that I can’t search anything on Adam without raising suspicion. I wish Fia and I had been able to talk. She could have told me more about him, maybe told me
why
he was connected to all those women who didn’t want to be found. She said he was nice.

He looked nice.

I can’t search for him. But I search for Lerner. Keane can’t get angry: he’s the one who gave me the name.

I search Lerner + psychics.

Lerner + mind readers.

Lerner + psychic phenomenon.

Lerner + paranormal abilities.

Lerner + every single word I can think of that might give me any insight whatsoever into who they are and why they are interested in Adam. I don’t know if he’s with them now, but he
will
be. And they know my sister’s name.

I read and search until my finger is numb. Nothing. There is nothing. Fia would know what to do. She’d figure out how to get the information she needed to keep me safe. I, on the other hand, am sitting alone in my room in the building I cannot leave, doing internet searches on psychics.

My parents were right. Fia is special. I can’t take care of anyone.

“Where is she?” Hands grab me, pull me up off the couch. I try to hit them away. I don’t know what’s going on, who is here, where I am.

Asleep. On the couch. I fell asleep waiting for Fia to call me back so I could somehow tell her about Adam.

“James?”

“Fia’s gone. You need to find her.
Now
.”

My mind spins, clunking past the remains of sleep. I feel slow. “I saw her dancing. Did you check clubs?”

“She
was
dancing. With me. And then we were attacked on the street and they threw her in a van and drove away.”

“Are you drunk? Were you both drunk?” I push him out of my way and stand, whip my hand out until I find his face. Hit
him. “YOU LET HER GET DRUNK?”

“Why aren’t you looking for her yet? FIND HER!”

“It doesn’t work like that! I told her not to go dancing! This is your fault. You let her go out. You got her drunk. If she hadn’t been drinking, there’s no way they could have taken her.” I slap him again. “This is your fault.”

He grabs my wrist and his hand squeezes too hard; he’s going to hit me back. Then he sinks onto the couch. “Please.” His voice is tortured. “It is. It’s my fault. She could have gotten away but she came back to protect me. She shouldn’t have come back.”

“You’re right. She shouldn’t have. You’re not worth it.”

He doesn’t answer. I want to hit him again, to scream. He lost Fia. He lost her. Then, finally, he says, “Is there anything you know—anything you saw? We have to get her back.”

Being watched while dancing. And…Adam. The vision with Adam. They were asking about Fia. That’s the connection. It has to be. But I can’t tell James that Adam is alive without telling him that Fia lied about killing him. And if they know that Fia lied and didn’t do what they asked…

The only image I have of my own face floats in my memory, cold and terrible. But just as terrible is knowing what Fia did to keep that from happening. I can’t let them push her that far again.

“Do you care about my sister?”

“Of course I do,” he snaps. I wish I could see his face. I wish I could read people like Fia does, know when they are lying. She says James is always lying. But she likes that about him.

“Did you kiss her?” I ask, whispering.

A pause. “Yes.”

“Do you remember how old she is? She’s a
kid
, James. A seriously screwed up kid.”

His voice is thicker. Maybe with guilt. I don’t know. I’ve never been able to get much other than false flirting and anger from his voice. “Yes.”

“Do you remember how she was when you first came back here?”

“Yes, yes,
yes
! Can you find her or not?”

“She didn’t kill Adam Denting.”

“She—what?”

“She didn’t kill him. She said she got there and she couldn’t. That’s why she’s so off, so crazy. Not because she killed him. Because she thinks she killed me again by not doing what your father wants her to.”

There’s a long pause. “Why did my father take the hit out? Maybe I can fix it.”

“I told him Adam would destroy him.”

“He’s going to—wait. You
told
my father that. Was it true?”

“No.”

He swears, and I flinch and cover my head as my lamp
smashes against the wall. “You tricked him into sending Fia out on a hit? What is wrong with you? Do you know how long I’ve worked to get her this stable, and you send her out to kill someone? Why? What on earth could possibly justify risking your sister?
I
should be asking
you
if you care about her.”

“I didn’t think they’d send her!” I shout. “Why would they send
her
? Why would they risk her like that?”

“What did you think would happen when you told my father that someone was going to destroy him? Of course he’d risk her. You’re really something, Annie. All these years Fia thought she was a killer. But she’s only ever fought to protect you. And here you are, ordering hits.”

“It wasn’t like that,” I whisper. “It was bigger than us. It
is
bigger than us. I wasn’t doing it for me. Or even for Fia. I was doing it so Fia wouldn’t happen to a thousand other girls.”

“Your sister sacrificed everything for you. Glad to know you’re looking out for a thousand strangers instead of her. Well done.”

I swallow hard. “I saw Adam again. I don’t know where he was. But I know who he was with. Does the name Lerner mean anything to you?”

He laughs. It’s harsh and low and it sounds like Fia’s and I ache and shatter and break on the inside. He’s right. I’ve failed her in so many ways, too many ways to ever atone for.

I hear the couch creak as he stands. “Well, that’s just brilliant.
Lerner has Fia. Do you want to tell my father, or should I?”

“You can’t tell him about Adam. He’ll kill me.”

“I don’t really care one way or the other what happens to you. But you dying would destroy Fia, so I’ll do whatever I can to cover up your mess. Because
I care
about your sister.”

I hang my head and cry. He leaves without a word.

I see Fia that night. I don’t know if it’s a dream or a vision, but she’s alone, and she’s scared, and she’s crying.

But she isn’t scared for herself.

She’s scared that something will happen to
me
because she got kidnapped.

In the morning when I wake up again on the couch I immediately know I am not alone. I can smell tea, my favorite tea, and the tiny clink of a spoon stirring.

“Good morning, Annabelle.”

Mr. Keane. Here. In my room. If I were going to die, would I have seen it? I can’t die. I have to save Fia.

“James informed me of the unfortunate development with your sister. I’m very disappointed.”

“Do you know where she is? Can you find her?” I sit up. I want to smooth my hair, to pull the blanket over myself so he can’t see my bare arms, but I resist.

“I have everyone working on it. I’ll be very upset if we lose
Sofia. And I expect you’ll be pushing yourself to see something helpful.”

“Of course.”

“Very good. Because without Sofia, there really isn’t a place for you here.”

He doesn’t say if there’s not a place for me here, there’s not a place for me anywhere. He doesn’t have to. I swallow. I hope he doesn’t see it.

I hear him stand, and almost sigh in relief because I know where he is now in relation to me, and it means he’s leaving.

“There is another matter. The matter of Adam Denting.”

James, James, how could you? “Yes?”

“I’ve heard some interesting things about him since he was killed. Did you know he was a neurologist? Studied brain abnormalities in women. Something of a prodigy. Very interesting. And I’ve been thinking about what you saw, his name swallowing mine. I’m curious: How can a girl who has been blind since age four understand a vision that revolves around words?”

I stutter, grasping desperately for something, anything to explain this. Fia would know. She’d have a lie. She’d twist and slide and slip through this. She’d never have messed up this bad in the first place.

I am lost.

His voice is close now, too close, and I sink back against the
couch, wishing I could disappear into it. “If you ever try to manipulate me again, dear girl, I can assure you that your death will not be nearly so pleasant and fast as the last one you saw, and I will personally make certain it happens.”

No footsteps, he has no footsteps, but I hear the door open with a click and a whisper. “If I were you, I’d pray for Sofia’s swift return.”

ANNIE

Eighteen Months Ago

I STOP HALFWAY TO FIA’S DOOR, THE TRAY BALANCED carefully on my hip. “You’re new,” I say. He smells like oranges and…something darker. Richer. Not the cheap, stinging aftershave of Stewart, the regular guard.