Part 13 (1/2)

Liam made the turn into Palm Manor Extended Care, and my stomach clenched just looking at the front door. I wasn't sure how I'd ever make it to Elisa's room. I twisted the pearls around my neck, attempting to channel a little bit of Grace's courage. I was going to need it.

”How can I help you?” the woman behind the desk asked, barely looking up from her computer screen.

”We're here to visit with Elisa Moore.” My voice shook. I hoped it wasn't obvious.

The woman typed something into the computer and asked us to sign the guest book.

”Ms. Moore's room is 306. Just follow the signs,” she said, pointing. ”You'll wrap around a bit, and her room will be on the right.”

We thanked the woman and followed her directions. Elisa's door was cracked open, so I knocked lightly.

”Come on in,” said a young-sounding voice.

Great. Did Elisa have a family member visiting? What would Grace do now? Well, if she'd just knocked on someone's door and gotten the okay, chances are she'd enter the room. I pushed open the door and came face-to-face with a friendly looking nurse who was was.h.i.+ng her hands at the bathroom sink.

”Hi, there,” she said. ”Have you come to visit with Ms. Moore?”

I nodded my head while Liam hung back.

”Well, she'll be so happy, even if she doesn't show it. She hasn't had a visitor in some time, and I think she could really use a little cheering up. Come in, come in.”

A twin bed was neatly made, and an older woman sat in a wheelchair positioned in front of the window. Her light brown hair was pulled into a low chignon. As she kneaded her hands, I clenched and unclenched my own.

”How are you related to Ms. Moore?” the nurse asked.

I glanced at Elisa and sent a silent apology in her direction regarding the lie I was about to tell.

”Elisa is my dad's...cousin,” I whispered, hoping that Ms. Moore was hard of hearing, which really was kind of a terrible thing to hope.

The nurse walked ahead of us and placed her hand lightly on Elisa's shoulder, but the woman didn't move a muscle.

”Ms. Moore, you have visitors! Isn't that nice?”

Elisa continued to stare out the window, and just when I thought she'd never answer-or that maybe she didn't even talk-she turned to the nurse and nodded her head. Her face was smooth, aside from a few wrinkles near her eyes and around her mouth. The nurse smiled as she came back toward Liam and me.

”Ms. Moore has good days and bad days, but I think you caught her on a good one.” Her smile broadened. ”Her memory goes in and out, so be patient.” She squeezed my shoulder and left the room.

I sat on the bed near Elisa's wheelchair and figured I should introduce myself.

”Hi, Eli...er...Ms. Moore. My name is Kate Lowry,” I said and extended my hand. She didn't move or even turn to look at me, so I awkwardly dropped my hand, barely resisting the urge to start chewing on my fingernails. ”And this is Liam,” I finished lamely.

”It's nice to meet you, Ms. Moore,” Liam said in his polite talking-to-elderly-people voice, even though she really didn't look all that old.

Elisa did nothing but stare out the window.

”It's such a beautiful day today. Look at all that...foliage.” Okay, I'm a complete sucker for trying to fill silence, but ”foliage” was a stretch, even for me. Liam shot me a look that said, Did you really just say that?

”Um, we're students from Pemberly Brown. My dad tells me you went to school there.” I watched her carefully, praying that the name of our school would trigger some kind of memory for her, but her eyes remained stubbornly blank. It was like she didn't even know we were there.

I wanted to ask her about her sister, but I couldn't go there with Liam in the room. I had to get rid of him somehow.

”Hey, Liam, why don't you see if you can snag us all some pudding or something?” I suggested.

Liam gave me a weird look, but he agreed and left the room to find a nurse.

As soon as he was out of earshot, I began firing questions at her. ”Ms. Moore, do you remember a Robert Sinclair? He went to Pemberly Brown? I think you might have gone there too.”

She didn't move a muscle. I was starting to wonder if she was even breathing.

I heard Liam's voice drift in through the open door. Something about chocolate or b.u.t.terscotch. I didn't have much time.

”Elisa!” I touched her shoulder and spun her around to look at me. ”What happened to your sister? What did they do to her? Why did she hurt herself?”

Her eyes widened when she looked at me. They were a muted, gla.s.sy blue, and they reflected fear and something else. Maybe recognition.

”She was your age.” Her voice was stronger than I would have guessed, and her creepy eyes were focused on something behind me.

I took a step back, not knowing what to say, and followed Elisa's line of vision, terrified that Liam was back and that he'd heard me badgering an unstable old woman. Instead I saw a framed picture of a girl. The picture was yellowed, but the image was a familiar one. She looked like the girl in the plaid skirt with her long dark hair. She reminded me of Grace. I felt queasy.

”We would talk for hours lying next to each other in the gra.s.s. She told me everything.” Elisa's skin looked paper-thin, and she sounded miles away. As if she were reading a script.

”She had her whole life ahead of her. We talked about what we would do when we left. We talked about falling in love and moving away. Because that's what sisters do.”

I glanced at the door, praying Liam hadn't been able to decide between the pudding flavors or that maybe Elisa's strange condition made him uncomfortable and he'd take his time.

”I told them what I thought happened. I told them she was acting differently. She never recovered after that night. And then when she went to the police, they started in on her. I knew they would kill her. No one believed me.”

She reached her frail arm toward the picture frame and tried to move her body forward. Afraid that she'd lose her balance, I grabbed the frame with shaking hands and placed it on her lap.

”She never came downstairs for breakfast, and I knew the worst had happened.” Elisa lifted the frame and c.o.c.ked her head.

Liam walked into the room with the pudding and opened his mouth to say something, but I quickly shook my head and gestured for him to stay quiet.

”Will you go try to find the nurse?” I whispered to him. ”She's not right.”

Liam rushed back out of the room, and I knew I had to work fast. There wasn't much time. I took Elisa's hand in mine again.

”Did Robert Sinclair hurt your sister?” I asked, even though I knew the answer.

”Her bed was empty because she was in the tower.”

”What tower?” But as soon as the question left my lips, I understood. The clock tower. Abigail was the girl hanging from the beams. It wasn't a legend after all. She was a real person with real problems and a real family who had been destroyed by the loss.

Spidery wrinkles formed along Elisa's forehead as she remembered. ”Station 2. She was at Station 2 all along. Her sisters couldn't save her. The brothers got her. They did this. They took her from us. And they lied. All they tell are lies.” Her eyes bulged, and her hands clenched the arms of her wheelchair so tightly that her knuckles turned white.

I stood and ran to the door, looking wildly down the hallway, praying someone would come to help. The sound of broken gla.s.s made me rush back over to Elisa's wheelchair. But when I got there, her face had rearranged itself back into a blank stare, as though her earlier outburst had never happened. I gathered the shattered gla.s.s from the frame and placed the fractured picture of the young girl back onto Elisa's bedside table next to a vase of beautiful pink peonies.