“No. That’s just general stuff. I don’t know anything specific about her.”

“So I could be right,” she said, satisfied with herself. “Maybe that man is her favorite or something. Maybe he’s in love with her and wants her to be his and only his.” Her imagination was in a stampede. “He’s going to rescue her from this life and . . . and take her away. Maybe he has an estate in Europe or lives in an old castle or . . .”

“He looked a lot older, didn’t he?”

“So?


“Men don’t usually fall in love with girls who sleep with other men for money,” I said.

That threw her for an instant, and then she brightened with another idea. “Maybe he doesn’t care. Maybe he’s so in love with her that he would forgive her for anything. Besides, he’s French.”

“First, he’s not necessarily French because he speaks French, Chastity. My father speaks French very well.”

“Well, I think he’s French.”

“And second, that’s a stereotype. Just because someone’s French, it doesn’t mean he or she has fewer morals.”

She shrugged. “My father thinks so, and he’s a lawyer.”

“Well, he’s wrong. Besides, what does that say about my mother?”

“I think he only meant French men.”

I looked at my watch. “I think I’d better head home,” I said. None of this was making me feel any better.

“When do you want to do this again? I think we should go there in the evening. I know how,” she added before I could object. “You get permission to stay over my house, and we can go up there whenever we want, stay late and everything. Okay? Maybe this weekend. I heard her say she had a full weekend. We’ll see something important.”

“I’ll see,” I said.

Suddenly, I felt terrible about this, and not only because I was doing what would surely disappoint my father. It was like some girl’s younger brother bringing a friend to spy on his older sister when she was getting undressed, taking a bath, or making love with her boyfriend. I hadn’t even spoken to Roxy for years, but suddenly, she was the one I was betraying. It was wrong of me to let someone like Chastity Morgan exploit my sister and use her for her lustful fantasies.

We started down the avenue.

“Why don’t you ask your father more about her and find out what she did, exactly? There had to be one big thing that broke the camel’s back, right?”

“My father won’t talk about Roxy and won’t even permit her name to be mentioned. I told you that. Why don’t you listen to what I tell you?”

“I wonder how he explains it to people who know.”

“People don’t know about what she does.”

“But you said that’s how you and your mother found out about her. Someone your father works with.”

“My father never told him she was his daughter.”

“Oh. Wow. That must really drive him crazy. Maybe someday, when you talk to your sister again, you can talk her out of doing what she’s doing.”

“I doubt it. Look,” I said, stopping, “I’m depending on you to keep this to yourself. If you don’t, I swear I’ll tell people some of the secret things you told me about yourself and what you do.”

“Of course I won’t talk about it. I promised, didn’t I?”

“Okay,” I said. We reached the corner where we would separate. “You had better study for tomorrow’s test,” I reminded her.

“Ugh. Don’t forget to get permission to come over Friday.”

I nodded and walked away. I didn’t feel at all the way I had expected. Chastity’s excitement and imaginings dominated the entire experience. I had barely looked at Roxy. Chastity saw her up closer than I had, and what’s more, she heard Roxy’s voice, her laughter. Rather than fill me with any excitement and pleasure, the entire event depressed me. I made up my mind to come up with some excuse for why I couldn’t go to her house on Friday.


Tags: V.C. Andrews The Forbidden Horror