Chapter XIII. 2007
CHAPTER XIII
It took less than an hour for Camilla to clean her mother up.
To help her into the shower, gently rinse the blood from her chin and neck, and help her change into a clean nightgown before settling her back into bed.
Her mother said nothing else after she pulled the final tooth from her gums, but allowed Camilla to manipulate her body like a catatonic, brunette Barbie.
Somehow, she managed to find a single bottle of disinfectant squirreled away in a secondary pantry.
Angela’s organization system was designed so the Burson family lived in a fantasy world where cleaning supplies didn’t have to be seen, but with the disinfectant and a roll of paper towels, Camilla picked up the teeth and cleaned the blood from the floor.
It was a relief to let herself fall into such simple actions.
The act of cleaning kept her from thinking about her mother’s insistence that the Dark Sisters weren’t real.
It kept her from sobbing because if Camilla couldn’t make the connection between the tree and the Sisters and the illness, her mother and Brianna were going to die.
She was burying the last bloodied paper towel at the bottom of the trash when she heard a knock at the kitchen entrance’s door. She shrieked and stumbled backward before she dropped to the floor, her hand over her mouth.
She wasn’t supposed to be here. She could only hope that whoever was at the door hadn’t heard her.
She crept forward on hands and knees until she was safely behind the kitchen island and then tucked her knees into her chest. If it was her father sending someone back to check on her, he would have sent Angela or someone who had a key.
If he wanted to catch her in the act, he wouldn’t have sent someone who announced themself by knocking.
Another knock, this one louder, as if the person on the other side was hammering the door with their fist, and then, two voices she knew almost as well as she knew her own. Noah and Brianna.
“Camilla, it’s just us.”
“Open the door.”
Her body unfolded, the tension in her muscles draining away. She pushed herself to her knees, stood, and, on trembling legs, made her way to the door and opened it.
“Oh, thank God.” Brianna pulled her in for a hug.
“Noah texted and said your dad was at the church, but you and your mom weren’t.
I was worried something was wrong. We didn’t have a way to call you.
Figured you didn’t have your phone back yet and calling the house phone didn’t seem like a great idea either. ”
“Y’all shouldn’t be here. They’ll be looking for you,” Camilla said.
“Noah’s the only one who’s supposed to be at church right now.
I’m under strict orders to stay inside the house.
” Brianna pointed to a small sore in the right corner of her mouth.
“This popped up last night. Mom and Dad don’t want anyone to see.
Apparently, they don’t care that I feel better.
It only matters what it looks like. If anyone knew I was sick, things would be even worse for us.
As if we weren’t already practically the roadkill of Hawthorne Springs. ”
“And, it doesn’t matter if I’m not there. No one’s going to be looking for me. And we know how to get past the cameras just as well as you do,” Noah said.
“How’d you even get back home?” Brianna asked.
“Told the driver I had lady problems.”
Noah crinkled his nose. “Ew.”
“See? It’s a classic for a reason. Works on you idiots every time,” Brianna said. Her face grew serious as she reached out, her hand hovering over Camilla’s sleeve. “You have blood on you.”
“My mom,” Camilla began, but her chest went tight, and she couldn’t breathe. The words snarled in her chest like barbed wire, and she gasped for air as Noah and Brianna supported her between them and guided her inside.
“It’s okay. Just focus on feeling the air in your lungs. It’s there, I promise,” Noah said as he settled her onto the couch in their sitting room.
Brianna sank onto the couch beside her and took her hand. “We’re here. You’re safe.”
They sat with her until her chest unlocked, her breath finally slowing as her lungs expanded.
It was Brianna who finally broke the silence. “If you don’t want to talk about it, you don’t have to.”
“No. It’s okay,” she said, and drew in another steadying breath.
She told it all. Her mother was sick, and her father had lied about it.
He was keeping her hidden away. Her mother still wouldn’t admit that she’d seen the Dark Sisters.
She’d pulled out several teeth and was now catatonic upstairs while her father was preaching a sermon at the church, his fury likely mounting each moment he glanced at their empty family pew.
“Where’s the phone?” Brianna said when Camilla finally reached the end.
“In the kitchen. Why?”
Brianna rose, her strides long and purposeful as she went into the kitchen and then made her way back. “You need to call your dad. Now.”
“He’s in the middle of the service.”
“Doesn’t matter. Leave a message. Listen, you need to keep your story consistent. You got your period. You had to come home. Shower. Change. You were going to come back, but you felt awful and just couldn’t.” Brianna thrust the cordless into Camilla’s hand.
“He won’t believe me.”
“Maybe he will, maybe he won’t, but saying nothing will only make things worse. At least this way, he might doubt the story, but he won’t outright reject the possibility it might be true. Also, Noah, care to demonstrate your reaction to the mention of ‘lady problems’ again?”
He screwed up his face in mock horror. “Eww!”
“Exactly. Call him. Leave a message. And then we can figure out the rest.”
Camilla dialed her father’s cell number. As it rang, she put her free hand in her hair and dug a nail into the scab she knew was there. Brianna swatted her hand away and whispered, “Stop that.”
She did as Brianna told her. She dropped her hand and left the message, taking care she did not rush or seem panicked, and then hung up, pressing the end button three times and then checking for the dial tone to be certain the call disconnected.
“Okay. You’re going to need a cell phone. So you have a way of reaching the outside world without anyone knowing,” Brianna said, her gaze on Camilla.
“I can do that. A pay-as-you-go burner. No problem,” Noah said.
Brianna squeezed his arm and smiled. “You’ll have to keep it hidden. Your dad can’t know you have it.”
She rolled her eyes. “This isn’t my first rodeo.”
“I know it’s not. Hey.” Brianna took Camilla’s face between her hands and leaned her forehead against Camilla’s. “We’re in this together, babe. All the way. We’re going to figure it out.”
“What if I’m wrong? What if none of this is connected at all?”
“We’re not doing that, Camilla. Listen.” She pulled backward, her eyes narrowing. “Didn’t you say Vera was with your mom when she saw the Sisters? Or that she’d told Vera? And that Vera wanted to know if you saw them, too?”
Vera. Of course. How stupid she hadn’t thought of it sooner. If her mother wouldn’t explain what she’d seen, maybe Vera would.
“I need to talk to Vera,” she said. Noah would have the cell phone for her soon, but she didn’t know when he would be able to sneak it back to her.
It could be a few days. It could be a few weeks.
She wasn’t sure she could wait that long, but she didn’t know how she could get to Vera without her father knowing.
“In the meantime, we stick to the plan. Be good. Do everything right,” Brianna stood, and with Noah following behind, made her way to the door.
“I’ll get the phone to you as soon as I can,” Noah said.
Camilla hugged both of them, her gratitude a painful lump in her chest as she watched them go. Somehow, she’d found two people who loved her fiercely and whom she loved back. It was more than she deserved. Such true friendship was more than anyone deserved.
She forced herself back upstairs. When her father came home to check on her, he needed to believe her story.
Within ten minutes, Camilla was tucked into bed, her dress a tangle on the rug.
Down the hall, her mother also lay quiet as the walls closed over them.
Strange how such a large house could feel like a coffin.
It was almost as if she slept. Almost as if she dreamed.
When she finally came back into her body, her father sat at the foot of her bed with his head bowed. She didn’t bother to sit up, only watched him and wondered if he doubted her. If he looked at her sleeping and saw a viper instead of his daughter. Regardless, she had to play the part.
“Hey,” she said, her voice barely a scratch. Even still, he started, his head flying up so his carefully combed hair came tumbling over his brow.
“You’re awake.” He stood and then resettled next to her, his hands trembling as he reached to tuck her hair behind her ears like he had when she was little. Hope sparked in her blood, but she couldn’t let herself fall into it completely. Not yet. There were still plenty of reasons to remain wary.
“How long have I been sleeping?”
“About six hours. You missed dinner, but I thought it best you get some rest.” He cleared his throat and pointedly glanced away. “Since you aren’t feeling well.”
He smiled and patted her hand before closing his fingers around it. Such a small act, but she felt as if he’d swallowed her up—her body vanishing against the power that was his.
“I was thinking, now that you’re home, and since you weren’t in service today to hear the sermon, I want to throw a little dinner party. To celebrate how well you did on Retreat. A preparty before all the Purity Ball chaos.”