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“Haylee,” Daddy said, softly chiding.

“Well, it’s true, Daddy.” I turned back to Mrs. Lofter. “I know what you’re going to say. You’re going to say a mother feels it more because her daughter was literally part of her body once. Kaylee and I were as much a part of each other as any mother and daughter. We shared every part of our DNA. No one could tell who either of us was by simply testing our DNA.”

My outburst didn’t even cause a wrinkle in her smooth face or make her step back. She looked as if she could seize hold of wherever she was and plant herself as tightly and firmly as an oak tree. “Nevertheless,” she began in a very calm and controlled voice, “I know you want what’s best for your mother in this circumstance. Don’t you? In the end, that will be helpful to all of you.”

I hated the way teachers and doctors and now someone like Mrs. Lofter could play on your sense of guilt to get you to do what they wanted you to do. They made you feel like murder was less of a sin than selfishness.

“Yes,” I said. “Of course.”

“Then please help me to help you and your father and your mother.”

“What do you want me to do?”

She looked at me so critically that I felt like a little girl again and wanted to step behind my father to hide from her eyes.

“For one thing, get dressed. Look and act as strong as you can. Your mother and your father,” she added, looking at Daddy, “are hanging on a thread of hope. From what I’ve been told, your mother is seriously disturbed. She’s more than just as terrified as any mother would be. We want to surround her now with a sense of normalcy so she can remain optimistic, so you all can.”

“You want me to get dressed and act like everything’s normal?”

“I’m not telling you to look like you’re at a party, but for your mother’s sake, do what you can to give her a sense of stability,” she said. “If she sees that you’re in great difficulty, that will wear on her, too. I’m not saying you should behave that way with anyone outside this house. Right now, all she can do is think of terrible things and cry. We can’t keep her on tranquilizers forever, and we want her to keep up her strength. I’ll be spending all my time with her, but I can’t do it alone.”

“We understand,” Daddy said, looking sternly at me. “Thank you, Mrs. Lofter.”

“Please take me to her now, Mr. Fitzgerald. We’ll look after my things after I spend a little time with her and decide whether I can be of any help,” she told him.

She glanced at me again. She had yet to offer an expression of sympathy or even a soft, compassionate smile. Perhaps it was because I had come on too strong and she didn’t think I was really as upset as I claimed to be. I vowed I’d make her see that I was suffering, too. She and Daddy went to the stairway. I went to the kitchen and grabbed a chocolate-covered cookie and went up after them to my room. In a way, I was glad she had come and demanded that we behave normally for Mother’s sake. I would take a shower, wash my hair, and put on some lipstick now. I might even start answering my phone calls. If anyone was critical or surprised that I was so put together, I could easily say that our special psychiatric nurse had ordered me to be so for my mother’s sake.

When I had come out of the shower and finished blow-drying my hair, I heard a knock on my door and tightened the bath towel around myself.

“Yes,” I called, wondering if it was Mrs. Lofter with a list of things she had forgotten to demand from me.

It was Daddy. “She’s very good,” he said immediately. “I watched her with your mother. She’s already gotten her to eat something, and she’s talking her into taking a shower and changing into other clothes.”

“Where has she worked?” I asked.

“She did most of her nursing in a mental clinic, and then she semiretired to do private-duty jobs. We lucked out there.”

“Mental clinic?”

“That’s good. She’s really what is called a mental-health nurse practitioner, Haylee. They do many of the same things a psychiatrist does, like diagnosing and prescribing medication, and from what Dr. Bloom tells me, she’s had experience with people suffering what we’re suffering.”

I grimaced and nodded. “You’re right, Daddy. I suppose we all need help dealing with it,” I said. Then I looked at myself in the mirror and considered what I would wear. People would be stopping by. I had now decided to greet them and tear their hearts apart with my deeply felt sorrow.

Daddy was still there, watching me.

“You always thought Mother was nuts, didn’t you, Daddy?” I asked, without looking at him.

“Don’t say such a thing, Haylee, especially not now.”

I

spun on him. “Kaylee wouldn’t have been so intense about being different, and it wouldn’t have driven her to carry on with some older man on the Internet, if she wasn’t so insane about us being exact sisters. You shouldn’t have left us.” I hammered at him. “You should have stayed here and helped us.”

He flinched as much as he would have if I had slapped him across the face. “It won’t do anyone any good to rake up all of that now. We have to concentrate on doing what we can to help your mother and the police.”

“Whatever,” I said. “I’m doing what Dr. Nurse says. I’m getting dressed so I look presentable. Is she going to stay here all day and all night, too?”

“Yes. She’ll take the guest room. I’ve brought in her suitcase. I’ve got to run out for a while, a few hours. Call me on the cell phone if you need me or you hear something,” he said. “Maybe I’ll pick up something for dinner. What would you like?”


Tags: V.C. Andrews The Mirror Sisters Suspense