Unlocked (35 page)

I carefully tore the page from the sketchpad, folded it into thirds, and wrote Chelsea's name on the outside. Then I wrote the name Sarah, too, because I was uncertain which name the hospital had her listed under. I took it out to the nurse's station and asked them to deliver it. They said they would.

When I returned to Mom's room, her eyes were open, and she tried to clear her throat. Relief flooded through me, and I hurried to her bed. She smacked her dry lips together and licked them.

“Water?” she whispered.

I lifted the cup and angled the straw to her lips. She took a few sips, and then I set the cup on the side table next to the six-pack of Dr. Pepper that Nick and Kyla had brought me last night. I swept wayward hairs from her face, and my fingers lingered on her pale, warm skin.

She reached up and grasped my hand. “You're okay?” she whispered.

“I'm fine, Mom. How are you?”

“Sore.” She touched the bandage around her neck. “You saved my life.” Tears rolled down her face, and she wiped them away. “I should've told you the truth sooner—”

“Mom, even you didn't know the whole truth about Harrison and Dad, but now we do. And I know that you moved us across the country to protect us from Harrison. I know you did the best you could to keep me safe.”

I stepped over to the nearby chair and picked up the brown box. I turned and set it next to Mom.

“What's this?” she asked.

Without explanation, I removed the lid and lifted out the family album. I turned to the first page and showed Mom her wedding picture. She covered her mouth and sobbed. I flipped through the pages of the album so she could see the progression of our family in the pictures. Last night I had asked Nick and Kyla to go to my house and get the box for me. At the time, I wanted to comfort myself, but now I realized I needed my family to feel whole again.

Mom gripped my hand. “Thank you for saving this,” she said. I showed her the loose snapshots in the box. We reminisced and thumbed through them together.

“I love you,” Mom said, “and I loved your father.”

“I miss him so much.”

“Me too,” she said.

I brushed my tears aside and embraced her.

• • •

Soft morning light spilled in through the window of Plug's quiet hospital room. My entire body relaxed when he opened his eyes and smiled at me.

“You're awake,” I whispered and stepped toward his bed. The aromas of antiseptics and disinfectants made me want to sneeze. I lifted my hand to my nose and actually missed the fragrance of sage.

“Where's your dad?” I asked.

“Breakfast with Grandma. They'll be back.” Plug patted the spot next to him. I recalled how the hypnotist had insisted that the best seats in the house were on his stage. He was wrong. The best seat in the house was right here next to Plug. I sat and took his callused hand in mine. His knuckles were marked with cuts from his battles with Manny and Harrison.

“How are you?” I asked.

“I hurt a little.” Plug grinned, as much as his stitches allowed.

“You suffered a brain injury,” I said. “I'm sure you hurt more than a little.”

“Only a concussion,” Plug said.

“A severe concussion,” I corrected him. “And a torn-up face, and—”

“Are you here to make me feel better or worse?”

“Sorry,” I said. “I am so sorry. For everything.”

“Stop apologizing,” Plug said. “It is what it is. And I can tell you, this week has been the most exhilarating week of my life.”

“It was almost the last week of your life.”

“It would've been worth it.”

I leaned forward and kissed the one spot on his cheek where there were no bruises or stitches.

“Think about it,” Plug said, “I've spent years researching the occult, and in one week, we experienced—”

“Oh, so you only enjoyed being around me because I was haunted by malicious spirits and stalked by an evil psychopath?”

“Fringe benefits.” Plug pulled me closer. “Besides, this is only the beginning for us. Who knows what the future holds. Maybe next week will be filled with witches or voodoo or—”

“Stop,” I said and laughed. But he was right; this was only the beginning for us. If I hadn't participated in that hypnotism show, I wouldn't be here next to Plug now. The worst thing in my life had led me to the best thing. I gazed at Plug and considered the possibilities of the future. With him, I could let go of all my worries and feel more relaxed than ever before.

“For now,” I said, “maybe we could just have a boring week of nothing but us.”

“Hmm,” Plug said, his eyes brightening as he touched my face. “Nothing but us? That has a lot of potential.”

“Kelly's first novel is a suspenseful page-turner with multiple suspects, a little bit of romance, and a strong but not overbearing message.” —
Kirkus Reviews

“Suspenseful novel that's guaranteed to give readers goose bumps—particularly as events heat up toward the end. A good choice for families to read together.” —
School Library Journal

“
Who R U Really?
is a fantastically creepy book that is surprisingly realistic and totally engrossing . . . Once I opened it, I couldn't close it.
Who R U Really?
is a satisfyingly unique YA thriller that left me guessing up until almost the very last page . . . This book is very realistic and I really enjoyed the writing style.” —Tempest Books

“This was such a good book. A story that all of us should read . . . This was a great read that opened my eyes even more about the Internet.” —
Just Us Girls
blog

“Based on actual events, the story should be required reading for all teens.” —
VOYA
magazine

“Kelly shows us just how terrifying, dangerous, and unknown the world of online gaming can be—especially for a young teen . . . The book is well written and the story believable and engaging . . . I strongly recommend this book. It was a great read and delivered a strong, important message.” —
Idaho Statesman

“This book is sure to spark a dialogue between parents and teens as well as tell an appealing cautionary tale to a younger audience and would be a good addition to any middle school, high school, or public library.” —
Idaho Librarian
(A Publication of the Idaho Library Association)

“This tense thriller offers useful lessons.” —
Horn Book Guide