Twisted by Hannah Jayne(20)

They were dull but accusing.

“Darla’s dad took that picture. We were there. It was Corolla Beach last summer.” Laney was whispering in Bex’s ear, her chin jutting toward the picture of Darla. Bex was immediately pulled back to that North Carolina courtroom, to that twanged voice dripping with anger and hate: “She should have to sit here and see what her daddy done. What he done to my little girl.”

“I have to go.” Bex stood up and tried to extract herself from the table and the cafeteria as quickly and quietly as possible, keeping her eyes trained on the floor. But she knew they were all looking at her, wondering how she could so callously get up and walk out while the principal memorialized a dead girl.

A noose was tightening around her neck as Bex escaped the cafeteria and burst into the hall. It was hard to breathe, each thread of rope tightening against her throat. She pushed out into the commons, dropping to her knees and sucking in air, coughing, sputtering.

It wasn’t him, she told herself. There was absolutely no indication that Darla was killed by the Wife Collector.

The jaunty image of the postcard emblazoned with the Research Triangle flashed in her mind.

Daddy’s home.

Bex tried to shake out the image, the memories, the voices, but they crawled and picked at her like fire ants on her skin. She fished out her cell phone and with shaky fingers dialed a number she’d hoped never to have to dial again. It rang twice before a jaunty voice greeted her.

“Dr. Gold’s office. This is Maria. How may I help you?”

Bex was silent for a minute, letting Maria’s voice soak in.

“Hello?” Maria said again. “Dr. Gold’s office?” Her voice rose at the end of the greeting.

“I’m sorry,” Bex pushed out. “I’m sorry. I need to talk to Dr. Gold.”

Maria paused on the other end of the line, and Bex could hear another line ringing in the office. “May I ask who’s calling, please?”

Bex froze. Beth Anne Reimer. Bex. Bex Andrews. That’s who she was. That’s who she was now.

“Bex Andrews.”

“Ms. Andrews, Dr. Gold isn’t in at the moment. Were or are you a patient of hers? I can schedule you an appointment or take a message—”

Maria’s pleasant, all-business voice was cut off when Bex hung up the phone.

? ? ?

Bex sat in the coffeehouse until the sky went from crystal blue to a low, muted gray, the sun beginning to set. She nursed a single cup of coffee, sipping slowly, refreshing it constantly so that each time the liquid burned her lips. The pain somehow satisfied her.

“Oh, oh thank God, there you are!” Denise rushed toward her and nearly toppled the chair, throwing her arms around Bex. She let Bex go, then looked her up and down, the relief in her face quickly dissolving to anger. “Bex, you scared the hell out of me and Michael.”

Bex looked up at Denise and noticed Michael over her left shoulder. He put a hand on his wife’s arm and muttered something in her ear. She shook him away. “No, Michael, she needs to know that she can’t just run off.” Denise looked down at Bex again. “Bex, the school called and said you missed your afternoon classes, and when I got to the school, no one knew where you were. You can’t run off like that. You just can’t.”

Her voice wavered between anger and sadness, and Bex shrank back in her chair, unsure of what to do. “We must have called you thirty times. And your boyfriend said you ran out of the cafeteria at lunchtime. You didn’t even tell him where you were going. Why, Bex?” Denise leaned on the table, palms pressed down, eyes blazing.

“Honey!” Michael pulled her back, and she crumpled in his arms. “We were incredibly worried about you, Bex.”

“I’m sorry,” Bex said. “I didn’t—I didn’t mean to frighten you.”

Michael stroked his wife’s hair as her shoulders rocked. “Come here.” He stretched out an arm for Bex. When she dutifully went to him, he engulfed his wife and his daughter in one tremendous hug. “It’s going to take some time for us all to get on the same page. Come on.”

They filed out of the coffeehouse in a straight line, silently getting into Michael’s car. Bex kept her eyes on her sneakers as he pulled out into traffic. Denise turned around in her seat. “I’m not mad. Well, actually I am. You can’t walk out of school like that.” She glanced at Michael’s profile. “We understand that today was probably really hard for you, but you have to talk to us. You can’t just act out, okay?”

Bex heard the words but couldn’t process them. Didn’t they know who she was, why this had happened?

No, because you’re Bex Andrews now. Beth Anne stayed in Raleigh. The Wife Collector stayed in Raleigh. You’re normal now. You have to be normal.

She cleared her throat and made the effort to look into Denise’s eyes. “I’m really sorry, you guys. I just—I kind of freaked out, I guess.”

“We can dig that.”

Both Bex and Denise shot Michael looks.

“What? I’m just trying to say that we understand. Man!”

Denise turned back to Bex. “We’re not going to punish you this time, but skipping school is not okay and not letting us know where you are is definitely not okay. If you want to talk about this—about anything—we’re here for you. Okay, Bex?”