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and when they hear about this . . ."

"But we didn't do anything," he insisted. "You're lucky I didn't wait a few more

moments. She might have had you with your clothes

off, pretending to be drawing you again," she said.

Beau flushed so crimson I thought he would have a

nosebleed.

"Just go, Beau. Please," I begged him. He

looked at me and then started for the door. Daphne

stepped aside to let him pass. He turned to look back

once more and then shook his head and hurried away

and down the stairs. Then Daphne turned back to me. "And you almost broke my heart down there

before, pleading to have me let you attend the wake . .

. like you really cared," she added, and closed the

door between us, the click sounding like a gunshot

and making my heart stop. Then it started to pound

and was still pounding when Gisselle opened the door

a few moments later.

"Sorry," she said. "I just turned my back for a

moment to get something, and the next thing I knew,

she was charging up the stairs and past me." I stared at her. It was on the tip of my tongue to

ask if the truth wasn't that she really had made herself

quite visible so Daphne would know she and Beau

had come up, but it didn't matter. The damage was

done, and if Gisselle was responsible or not, the result

was the same. The distance between Beau and me had

been stretched a little farther by my stepmother, who

seemed to exist for one thing: to make my life

miserable.

Daddy's funeral was as big as any funeral I had

ever seen, and the day seemed divinely designed for


Tags: V.C. Andrews Landry Horror