Revelations (6 page)

The keys fell out of her suddenly nerveless hand as she saw the front door clearly now that it was bathed in harsh
light. This wasn’t possible. Not here, not on her own front door.
Her dad’s house.

Her hands shaking, Rae bent down to pick up the keys. Then she stood, staring at the door, unable to put the key
in the lock.

Unclean.
The word
unclean
had been written across the door in blood-colored paint.

Anthony was right,
Rae thought, shivers running through her whole body.

No! No.
I
was right,
she screamed inwardly
. This is just a reminder that I’m being watched. And that I need to keep

my mouth shut. That I have to stay in line.

And she could deal with that. No problem at all. She’d clean the words off her door before her dad saw the
message, and then just keep being normal Rae. She would spend her whole life staying in line if that’s what it took.

But she wasn’t going to letthese people ruin her life-or hurt anyone else she cared about.

*

You’re not quite so happy now, are you, Rae? And I ’m a little happier. Especially because this is it. You’ve reached

the final days. To o bad you won ’t enjoy them. I plan to make you as miserable as possible before I kill you. You

deserve that. I deserve that. My mother deserves that.

Rae waved to her father as he pulled out of Yana’s driveway Saturday morning.
God, I really have to get my license,

she thought.
I’m sixteen now. Way too old to be driven around by daddy.

Now that my life is settling down
-
as long as I’m the good girl the government people want me to be
-
I can start

doing normal stuff again. Like getting ready to take my driver’s test.

Rae realized she was still standing in Yana’s driveway. Stalling. She sucked in a deep breath and started up the
walkway to Yana’s house. The blooms on the plants Yana had grown on either side of the walkway were gone, and
the stems looked kind of sad and naked with just the leaves. “I can’t believeI’m doing this,” she muttered as she
reached the door. “I mean, there’s nice, and then there’s doormat.” Rae reached out and rang the doorbell, anyway.

All she had to do was a quick fingerprint sweep, then she’d be outta there.

“Hi,” Yana said as she swung open the door. “Hi,” she repeated. “Come on in. I’m making us waffles. Blueberry
ones,” Yana added over her shoulder as she led the way into the kitchen.

Rae followed, feeling strange about finally being in Yana’s house. It was almost like she’d expected the place to be
obviously different somehow, the way Yana had been so weird about not letting her come inside before. But no-it
was a house. Normal enough.

“Wait,” Rae said as she spotted a mixing bowl on the kitchen counter. “You’re actually
making
waffles,” she
demanded. “I thought you meant you were taking some Eggos out of the freezer and putting them in the toaster.”

“Nope,” Yana answered. She spooned some of the batter into a waffle iron.
A waffle iron.
Rae hadn’t even known
anyone actually had waffle irons anymore. She’d thought they were all in museums. She’d definitely never thought
she’d see Yana Savari using one.

Except… except Yana had done the gardeningthing in the front yard. And God, it looked like the cushions on the
folding chairs positioned around the kitchen table were homemade. “So are you going to sit down or what?” Yana
asked as the waffle batter sizzled.

“Sure.” Rae sat down in the closest chair, even though she didn’t want to. She didn’t want to eat the yummy-smelling waffles, either. What she wanted was to do what she’d come here to do. Period. What was Yana doing
making waffles for her, anyway? Why would she possibly think that Rae’d want to eat waffles with the person who’d
gone behind her back and taken her boyfriend? Okay, not her boyfriend. But the guy who had kissed her in a way
that only a guy who was her boyfriend should.

“You know what?” Rae asked. “I’m not really hungry. Can you just get me something of your dad’s? It would be
good if it was something he touched near the time that he was talking to the doctor who was-”

“Not so loud, okay? He’s home,” Yana muttered.

“Oh.” Rae hadn’t even thought of that possibility. She’d never met Yana’s dad. Which wasn’t that strange,
considering she’d never been inside Yana’s house before. “What I was going to say is that it would be good if you
could get me something your dad would have touched really soon after he talkedto the doctor,” Rae whispered.

“That’s when there’d be the best chance he was thinking about you so I could pick up some useful stuff.”

“So forget the waffles,” Yana said.

“Yeah, forget them,” Rae replied, ignoring the thin vein of hurt she’d heard in Yana’s voice. Like refusing a waffle
was anywhere close to what Yana had done to Rae.

“Do you want juice? I made juice. With oranges,” Yana said.

Can’t you tell I just want to get out of here? That I don’t want to spend one second more in your presence than I

have to?
Rae wanted to scream. But what came out of her mouth was a quiet, “Okay, sure, orange juice.”

You are such a weenie,
Rae told herself.
Just because Yana is doing the breakfast thing to try and make you

forgive her doesn’t mean you have to go along with it.

Yana went to the cupboard, took out a glass, using the tips of her fingers on one hand and just the palm of her
other hand.
Gee, wonder why?
Rae thought. She casually ran her fingers over the table-top. Yeah, Yana’d wiped it.

Clearly it was only Yana’s dad’s thoughts that Rae was supposed to go digging into.
Thanks for trusting me, Yana.

You should know that I wouldn’t
-

A high-pitched screeching sound filled the kitchen. Yana dropped the glass, and it shattered on the tile floor. “Crap.

Just crap,” Yana burst out. She grabbed the dish towel that was looped over the faucet of the kitchen sink, then
jerked a chair into position under the screeching smoke detector and started flapping the towel at it. “Can you get
the waffles?”

Rae stumbled to her feet and hurried over to the waffle iron. Tendrils of smoke were sneaking out the sides. Rae
yanked the plug. Would it help to open the iron, or would more smoke-

“What in the hell is going on out there?” a man yelled. “Jeanette and I are trying to sleep.”

“Crap,” Yana said again. She jerked the cover of the smoke detector, yanked out the batteries, and threw them on
the floor. They bounced near the feet of the man who had just walked into the kitchen.

Rae turned toward him and put on her best meeting-the-parents smile. But the man ignored her. “Jeanette was
working until two last night,” he snapped. “She doesn’t need this.”

“It’s not like I planned it,” Yana muttered. She jumped off the chair.

“Don’t get smart,” her father warned. He scrubbed his hands through his sandy brown hair and hitched up his
sweatpants. “Did you make coffee, at least?”

“Don’t I always?” Yana asked. She didn’t even glance in Rae’s direction. Forget about trying to make an
introduction.
Although maybe that’s a good thing,
Rae thought. Yana’s dad didn’t look like he’d be happy to meet
anyone right now. Unlike Rae’s dad. Who practically leapt around with joy whenever she brought someone home.

Yeah, it was partly because it was proof that she was approaching normalcy again. But even before the incident,
even before Rae spent the summer in the mental hospital, her dad had always been the dad that drove her and her
friends places. He’d even been assistant leader of her Brownie troop.

Yana’s dad took two steps toward the cof-feemaker, then let out a string of curses that wouldn’t quit. “There’s
glass all over the damn floor, Yana,” he said as he sat down in the closest chair.

“Want me to get some peroxide?” Yana volunteered.

“I want you to clean up this sty, that’s what I want. And do it by the time Jeanette and I get up.” He dug around in
the bottom of his foot, found a sliver of glass, and pulled it out. Then he licked his finger and rubbed the bleeding
spot.

“You should clean that or-” Yana began.

“I’m going back to bed. Keep it down.” Yana’s dad got up and left the kitchen.

“Ladies and gentlemen, my father,” Yana said after a door shut somewhere down the hall.

Rae thought about trying to make a joke. But she couldn’t think of anything even a little bit funny.

“Is there still enough waffle stuff?” she asked softly. “I’m starving, suddenly.”

“Now you’re hungry,” Yana complained, but there was definitely a note of happiness in her voice. Rae couldn’t
help feeling that little twinge of sympathy for Yana growing bigger by the second.

“Yeah, now I’m hungry,” Rae answered. She got up and grabbed a broom from beside the fridge.

“You sure you know how to use one of those things?” Yana asked as she dumped the burned waffles into the
garbage. “I know you have a housekeeper and everything.”

Rae felt a splotch of guilt start growing on the wall of her stomach.
Oh, come on,
she told herself.
It’s not your fault

that you have it better than Yana. It’s not like you have a decent dad and a housekeeper just to make her feel bad.

Rae flipped the broom over and poked at the glass on the floor with the handle. “Like this, right?” she asked Yana.

And she actually got a smile. And she actually cared that she got a smile. Because she was a weenie.

“Hey, Yan,” Rae said as she started sweeping with the right end of the broom.

“Huh?” Yana finished wiping out the waffle ironand plugged it in. “I said huh,” she added when Rae didn’t go on.

“We never talked about this. But I was wondering.” Rae hesitated. “I was wondering what the story is on your
mom.”

“Don’t go there, okay?” Yana snatched up the mixing bowl and started to spoon batter onto the waffle iron.

Her hands are shaking,
Rae noticed.

“My dad and me-it’s the one thing we agree on. We don’t talk about her. Ever. Not after what she did to us.”

Rae nodded. Did Yana’s mom leave them? Did she find another guy or something? More and more questions
circled her brain, but she didn’t speak any of them aloud. She was afraid Yana would explode into a million pieces if
she did.

“I’ll go get something of my dad’s,” Yana announced. She slammed down the lid of the waffle iron and bolted. Rae
found the dustpan and swept up her little pile of glass. Then she put the dustpan and broom back where she’d
found them. Yana seemed pretty big on keeping things neat.
I wonder if her dad even realizes that,
Rae wondered.

Or does he think the place stays clean by itself? And those flowers out front
-
does he think they just happened to

grow in perfect lines on both sides of the walkway?

“Here,” Yana said as she came back into the kitchen. “My dad always uses this hand-strengthener thing when he’s
angry. And he was definitely angry after he talked to the doctor from the hospital.”

Rae took the strengthening device off Yana’s open palms. She ran the fingers of her right hand over the rubber
grips.

Hot blood flooded into the veins and arteries of her head. Too much. Too much. They were going to burst. Rae
heard a low groan of pain, and it took her a moment to realize it was coming from her own throat.

Jeanette wants
no good/hospital/wild/crappy pay/Yana has to go/Jeanette says/doctor can commit/by ourselves/

The blood in Rae’s brain turned hotter. Scalding and sizzling.
Drop it. Just drop the freakin’ thing.
She forced her
fingers to uncurl from around the rubber grip. The hand strengthener fell to the floor. Rae sat down beside it.

“Are you okay? What happened?” Yana knelt next to Rae and lightly rested her hand on Rae’s shoulder.

“I’m okay. I’m okay,” Rae said breathlessly. She forced herself to meet Yana’s gaze. “You were right. Don’t worry. I’ll
help you. I promise.” She felt her eyes fill with pity as she looked at Yana. “Yan, your dad does want to get you
institutionalized.”

*

The front door to Aiden Matthews’s house was still unlocked. Anthony stepped inside, trying to ignore the fact that
the sound of his footsteps in the empty hallway gave him the creeps. Because what was he-six years old?

He opened the closet door. A few metal hangers hung on the clothes rack, but that was it. He slammed the door.

Rae should be here. Who knew what kind of fingerprint info could be in what looked like an empty closet? But no,
Rae was way too busy to be worrying about the fact that her friggin’ life was in danger. Why think about something
like that when she could be making out with blond-headed prep-school friggin’ god Marcus Salkow? He’d actually
heard some girl call Salkow that. A god.