From Bad to Cursed

She didn’t want to answer me, I could tell. But finally, she said, “Whatever arises, we’ll contain it.”

Their kind of containing was what kept my sister at Harmony Valley for ten months, even though, technically, there was nothing wrong with her. Calling the number on that card might get my sister locked up for a lot longer than ten months.

Or worse than locked up.

“I’m sure it’ll be over soon. Mimi’ll get sick of them and move on to something better—” Pepper cut herself off and blushed. “You know what I mean.”

There was a time when I would have been insulted, but I nodded and gave her a distracted half-smile.

The thing is, I wasn’t offended.

I actually hoped she was right.

After lunch on Saturday, I went out to the great room to find Mom sitting at the island, looking over some work stuff. And—as always—Kasey had claimed the sofa, even though she was barely paying attention to the TV.

I leaned on the bar next to Mom. “Can I use the car later?”

She looked up. “Sorry, what?”

“I need to go take some pictures. For the contest.”

“Oh.” Mom hardly glanced away from her computer. “Sure, honey.”

I chose my words carefully. “I really want them to be good, you know? To make up for all of the old ones I don’t have anymore.”

Mom minimized her spreadsheet window, which meant she was really paying attention. Maybe using her sympathy to get what I wanted makes me a bad person. But I couldn’t worry about that. I had to figure out what was going on with my sister.

“Where will you go?” she asked.

“I don’t know,” I said. “Out. I might call around and see if anybody can help me.”

Studying the back of my hand, I took a half step to the left—revealing to my mother’s eager eyes the sight of Kasey flopped on the couch.

“I know someone who can help you,” Mom said.

“How much farther?” Kasey asked.

“I don’t know,” I said. “It depends on the light.”

We were trooping through the forest at Lakewood. The guest lot and picnic area were deserted—big surprise—and we slipped into the woods, ignoring the rusted NO TRESPASSING sign. I carried my camera and a couple of pieces of white poster board to bounce light off of. Kasey was lugging a pile of costumes and props. She kept falling behind and having to trot to catch up.

She let herself be talked into helping with minimal groanage, which surprised me. Only when I said we were going to Lakewood did she try to back out. But by then, Mom had latched on to the idea of us taking pictures together—just like old times—and ordered her to help.

I was kind of excited about the shoot, but my real motivation was to get my sister alone. I kept trying to think of ways to introduce the topic of Mimi, but I couldn’t come up with anything besides Why on earth would Mimi Laird lower her exalted self to hang out with you?

“Here,” I said, as we reached a clearing. It looked similar to the one where we’d seen the creature the week before. My skin prickled with goose bumps, and I waited to see how Kasey would react. But she just seemed relieved to be able to drop the pile of clothes.

“What’s our theme?” she asked.

“Um…” I looked around. “Why don’t you grab the violin?”

She made a dissatisfied face. “It doesn’t have any strings.”

“Fine,” I said. “How about the wedding gown?”

Kasey looked horrified. “It’s ninety-five degrees!”

“Yes,” I said. “Definitely the wedding gown.”

I’d picked up the dress at the thrift store for ten dollars. It had a plain top with spaghetti straps and a full tulle skirt, like a tutu. Kasey pulled it over her head, and then I turned away so she could finish changing. I zipped it up and she looked around.

“You know,” I said, “that looks kind of like Pepper’s prom dress from last year.”

It was weak, but I was dying to start interrogating.

Kasey shot me a sideways look, which I ignored.

“Speaking of Pepper…what brought on this whole Mimi reunion? I didn’t think you guys got along.”

“We used to be best friends,” she said coolly. “What’s so weird about us talking?”

“I didn’t say it was weird,” I said. “But since you brought it up, what’s weird is that you broke her arm.”

“Are we going to actually take any pictures?” Kasey asked.

I raised the camera and checked the settings. “What’s weird is that you broke her arm on purpose,” I said. “As I recall.”

I braced myself for an explosion.

I got an unruffled gaze. “Well, I apologized,” Kasey said. “And she understood. So.”

Hey, sorry I broke your arm? That was all it took to get back on Mimi’s good side?

Suddenly, Kasey started spi

A minute later, she stopped to rest. It wasn’t a cool day, and the edges of her hairline glistened with sweat. She raised her arm and wiped her forehead. Without warning her, I took a picture, and she gave me a dirty look.

I looked back at the pile of props. “Just try the violin.”

She picked it up, her eyes still veiled with hurt. “You really think it’s that strange?” she asked. “That someone wants to be my friend?”

Okay, no. That’s not how I meant it. “No…I only think it’s strange that Mimi Laird wants to be friends with you.”

“Everyone seems to want me to get on with my life. To be happy.” Kasey’s voice was thoughtful, and she gently tucked the violin under her arm. “Everyone but you, Alexis. Even Pepper is nicer to me than you are. And she’s a senior. And popular.”

Unsure if that was supposed to be a jibe about my own unpopularity, I let it go.

I snapped a couple of pictures, which made Kasey turn away again.

“I do want you to be happy,” I said. “But not if…” If it means you’re doing something bad. Something wrong. Something that would ruin everything for all of us.

She stood up straight—she was almost as tall as me now—and looked me right in the eye. “Not if it means hanging out with people you don’t like?” she asked. “Like Lydia?”

“Yes, in fact,” I said. “Like Lydia. You don’t know her, Kase.”

“No, Lexi, you don’t know her. She’s had a terrible year. Give her a break.”

“Excuse me!” I said. “What about my year?”

Kasey’s mouth fell open.

My mouth fell open, too. At first I couldn’t figure out where that had come from. But then it was like a door had been opened. “You think it was easy?” I asked. “Being home with Mom and Dad? Trying to pretend things were normal? Losing everything we owned? You got to move into a furnished town house, Kase. We had nothing. No clothes, no dishes—my camera, all my pic-tures—everything was gone.”

Kasey’s jaw relaxed, and she looked at me with—was it compassion?

Nope. Totally not compassion. Her face transformed. “Are you kidding me?” she hissed. “Excuse me, I was in a mental institution. I couldn’t wear clothes with buttons, Lexi, because they thought I might choke somebody!”

Then, in a burst of anger, she took the old violin ($4 at the thrift store) and swung it. I managed to snap a picture just as the brittle wood hit a tree trunk and cracked.

Kasey stared at it, shocked at what she’d done. Then she smashed it again, and again, until all that was left was the neck. I took almost a whole roll of film.

Panting, she dropped the violin and turned to me. “I’m sorry if you had a hard year,” she said. “But don’t I deserve a chance to be happy? Why can’t I have friends of my own?”

“Go ahead,” I said. “Find out for yourself that Lydia’s a backstabbing, co

Kasey sank down to the ground, the wedding dress puddled around her. She closed her eyes and shook her head.