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“Obvious nuisance calls. Ridiculous and at times filthy statements. I had someone put a trace on them for us, someone with authority,” she added. She turned to me. “Do you know who Evan Styles is?”

I felt the air rush out of my chest and the rock tumble into my stomach.

Roxy turned to me. “You told them my telephone signature name, too?”

“I didn’t. Chastity did,” I moaned.

“What is this, Roxy?” Mrs. Brittany asked. “What is she talking about?”

“Sometime before my sister came here, she and her girlfriend spied on me. They found out I was known as Fleur du Coeur, and the girlfriend told her friends. She was just revealing that to me when you came, Mrs. Brittany.”

“I’ve taken action to put a stop to it. I think Martin Styles will see that it’s done,” she added, “but this is not very good for us, Roxy.”

“I know. I’m sorry. We’ll deal with it.”

“I don’t like my business threatened,” Mrs. Brittany said, mostly for my benefit.

“I’m sorry,” I said.

“If you were so intrigued with what your sister does, perhaps you should think about it for yourself,” Mrs. Brittany told me.

“No,” Roxy said, a little more sharply than she had intended, I’m sure. Mrs. Brittany turned to her angrily. “I mean, she has other opportunities. Please, Mrs. Brittany, let me handle things.”

“This is already more of a problem than I had expected,” she said. “I wouldn’t want to see anything else, any more surprises. Who knows what else she has done? Maybe sweet sisters bunking together isn’t as innocuous as we hoped.”

“It will be. I’ll handle it. I promise,” Roxy repeated, sounding more like someone pleading.

“I have an important charity event at

the mayor’s mansion,” she said. “We’ll talk about this later.”

She turned and started out. Roxy looked at me and then leaped up to follow her and speak to her again at the door. I put my elbows on the table and lowered my head to my hands. I should have told her everything much sooner, I thought. It takes so long for two people to build real trust between them, even two sisters. Maybe it’s even harder for two sisters.

Roxy returned, looking quite subdued.

“I’m sorry,” I said.

“Stop saying that. After a while, it has no meaning. I learned that from Papa a long time ago.” She sat.

“What’s going to happen?”

“Nothing. Yet. But you had better be extra careful about what you say and to whom you say it, especially in school,” she warned.

“I hate being there.”

She thought a moment. “Maybe it would be easier if you started in a new school. Let me look into it. In the meantime, you have a spring vacation coming up soon, don’t you?”

“Two weeks.”

“Maybe we’ll go to France,” she said.

“Really? I’d like that.”

She nodded, and we returned to our dinner.

I knew my life at school wasn’t going to get any better, especially now that Evan had gotten into trouble. The looks of lust and the dirty humor directed my way turned into angry and hateful glances when he had told his friends. Exaggerated stories circulated about me. Every morning, I felt as if I was entering a nest of vipers, the girls in my class hissing at me, the boys smirking, and even my teachers looking at me suspiciously. By now, they all knew I was living with Roxy, and I was sure they knew who Roxy was and what she did.

It got so I felt self-conscious when I put on makeup. I eventually stopped wearing even lipstick, and I would spend far too much time agonizing over what blouse or skirt to put on. While other girls were actively trying to be prettier and sexier, I was trying to look more like a girl from some extremist group who thought sex was the path to fatal sin. I was hoping that the plainer I looked, the less attractive I made myself, and the more uninteresting I became, the closer I would be to invisible. Not only would they not see me, but they would stop talking about me. I felt so shut up inside myself, so tightly wrapped, that when the school day ended and I stepped out of the building, I was like a prisoner who had been released from solitary confinement. The moment I was back on the street, I let my hair down, unbuttoned the top buttons of my blouse, and felt my whole body defrost.


Tags: V.C. Andrews The Forbidden Horror