Broken Wings 2 - Midnight Flight, Andrews, C. [classic books for 10 year olds .TXT] 📗

here today, Phoebe? Didn't you hear about all the responsibility and trust I have decided to place in you? Are you going to disappoint me now, now that I have determined you are worth all my effort and energy? Are you going to have me throw you back into the water as if you weresome sick fish? Well?” she said, raising her voice and widening her eyes with fury.

I was frightened. I was very frightened, but I was more terrified of telling her that Gia claimed Posy was her daughter, and not only that, that her daughter might be locked up in the basement right below us. What would she do to Gia and then to the others and what would they think of me?

In the back of my mind a little voice whispered, “What if Gia was the one telling the truth?”

I gathered all my ability to slip away, an ability I had employed many times before to escape from the chains and shackles adults in authority could throw over me. Too often in my life, I'd found myself having to avoid punishments and blame. The trick was never showing I was afraid and guilty. I would go on the offense and usually that worked.

But Dr. Foreman was the expert in all this. I had no doubt she had dealt with girls as good at it as I was, if not better. Still, I chose that route.

“I don't listen to their garbage talk,” I said with as much anger as I could muster. “Sure, I heard her mention someone named Posy, but it wasn't anything I cared to hear about. I have my own troubles.”

She didn't change expression. She continued to hold that gaze, fix those eyes on me. I tried not to blink, not to look shifty, but she didn't nod or smile or in any way look satisfied.

“You're making a big mistake here today, Phoebe. It will bring you even more pain than this,” she said, opening the drawer, taking out the envelope that contained the letter about Mama and snapping it in the air. "You'll be out there alone. The other girls won't help you. You should hear the bad things they say about you,

Gia, especially. I know she's lying, they're all lying about you, but it doesn't matter. None of them would be friends with you on the outside anyway, would they? You'll go back to your world and they'll return to theirs, right? Why protect anyone but yourself now?

“Besides, if you care about them, if you have some sensitivity and conscience about it, then assure yourself this is the best way to help them. Just like you tried to help Teal.”

“But you let her run off anyway,” I said as sharply as I could.

"Of course, I did. So she would learn something, but thanks to you, she was under surveillance the entire time and luckily, too. After she was stung, she might have wandered into worse places because she can't tolerate pain. She has a very low boiling point, being spoiled so much. No, you did a good thing then. You did save her life. Do a good thing now.

“Tell me exactly, in as much detail as you can, what Gia said about Posy.”

She leaned forward expectantly.

“She didn't tell me anything specifically. She was talking to everyone.”

“That's what I mean, Phoebe,” she snapped, her eyes flickering with heat and ill temper. “Don't play with words with me. We're not in court. Well?”

“I just heard her say something about a girl who was here before.”

“Are you going to have me pull every word out of you? What did she say about the girl?”

“That she was a liar,” I said. “Made up stories.”

“And?”

“That was it. Now she's gone. I didn't think it was anything to talk about.”

She snapped back as if her body were wrapped in rubber bands attached to the chair.

“I was mistaken about you, Phoebe. You're not ready for what I want to do for you. You need more time.” She put on that cold smile again. "That's all right. Time is something we have at our disposal here. I'm going to give you time to think about today. Perhaps you'll come back to me on your own, perhaps not. It doesn't matter. In the end, Phoebe, you will return.

“You're free to resume your chores.” She waved her hand at the door.

I rose quickly.

“Wait,” she said when I reached the door.

I turned and saw her open the desk drawer.

“Take this with you. It's all she left you, apparently, the news of her unnecessary death.”

“I don't want it.”

It was as if I had refused a valuable gift, insulted her, and disrespected her ancestors all at once. She whipped her head back, tore the envelope in two and threw it in the black metal wastebasket beside her desk.

“Consider that your attendance at your mother's funeral,” she said, and turned her back on me.

It was as if my feet were turning to balloons. I walked out, but it seemed more like I floated along. M'Lady One wasn't there waiting. No one was there. My heart was still thumping as I sat and put on my clodhopper shoes. Almost the second I put on my left shoe, I felt it, and it was like no pain I had ever felt before. I screamed and threw off the shoe.

The pink insect with its back end curled up fell out, partly crushed. I looked up in a panic. My foot seemed to be swelling up right before my eyes.

“Help!” I screamed. Where was everyone?

M'Lady One appeared in the doorway. She had to have been standing right there all the while, I thought.

“What seems to be the trouble?” she asked sweetly and calmly despite my cry.

“I've been bitten by that!” I cried, pointing to the dying insect.

M'Lady One came down the steps casually and looked at the insect. “What'dya know about that, you've been stung by a scorpion, too.”

“A scorpion?”

“Big deal. Put your shoe on and get back to work.”

“But shouldn't