at all sure it was true. But the idea of being locked up in a hospital somewhere had terrified her even more than the image of the old man that she’d seen in the bathroom mirror the night she’d tried to kill herself, so instead of telling the psychiatrist about it, she’d made up a story. And the story wasn’t really a lie, because she had been worried about her father not working, and she had felt she could never do anything right. So when she told them she’d just decided that maybe it would be easier for everyone if she weren’t around anymore, they’d believed her.
She hadn’t told them about the nightmare man—she knew better than that.
She’d talked her way out of telling Dr. Hartman about thinking she was pregnant, too. That hadn’t been too hard—she just said she’d been feeling really bad lately, and when she missed her period, she automatically thought she must be pregnant. She even claimed she’d been drinking with some friends one night, didn’t remember what had happened, and just assumed she must have gone to bed with someone. That part hadn’t been true at all—she hated the taste of liquor—but they’d believed her.
And they hadn’t locked her up.
They sent her home instead, and a week later her mother told her they were moving to Villejeune.
There’d been a long story about the job her grandfather had found for her father, but Kelly knew it wasn’t true. Or even if it was, it still wasn’t the real reason they were moving.
What they really wanted to do was get her out of Atlanta, and away from her friends.
Her friends, she thought hollowly. It was kind of funny, really, since she never thought of the kids in her crowd as friends. They were just other kids, people to hang out with so she wouldn’t have to be by herself all the time. She never really talked to any of them very much.
If she had, they might have found out how crazy she really was.
Maybe she should have let them lock her up after all. At least that way her mother wouldn’t have had to move back to Villejeune. She recalled her mother’s words, last week: “I always hated it. It always felt like everyone there was just waiting to die. Nothing ever changed, nothing ever happened. And it wasn’t just me. A lot of the other kids felt the same way. Most of us could hardly wait to get out, and a lot of us did. There wasn’t any reason to stay—Villejeune was just like all those other little towns on the edge of the swamp. Nobody had any ambition, nobody had any dreams.” Then, as Kelly watched, her mother’s eyes had wandered over the fading wallpaper in their living room, taking in the worn furniture they’d never been able to replace. She’d sighed, and smiled wanly at Kelly. “Well, I guess my dreams never came true, did they? And your father says the town’s changed, so maybe it’s time I gave it another chance.” She’d fallen silent, as if trying to convince herself that she believed what she was saying, and then she brightened, though Kelly had seen her force the smile onto her lips. “Anyway, it’s time for you to have a change, isn’t it? Meet some new people, make new friends! It’ll be fun.” The words had struck Kelly like tiny knives. An overwhelming sense of guilt had descended on her.
It was her fault that her mother had to go back.
“Well, for heaven’s sake, will you look at that?”
The words from the front seat startled Kelly out of her reverie. She sat up, focusing for the first time on the landscape beyond the confines of the car, as her father slowed the Chrysler. Ahead of them on the highway was a large billboard, featuring a panoramic vista of a golf course and marina, dotted with houses and condominium units. In bold letters above and below the scene, the legend proclaimed:
VILLEJEUNE LINKS ESTATES
ANOTHER PROJECT FOR GRACIOUS LIVING
FROM ANDERSON & ANDERSON
Kelly stared at the sign, uncertain what it meant. Then she heard her father’s voice.
“Do you believe it? He never said a word. He just said to keep an eye out for a new project he was starting.”
“But—” Mary began, her words instantly drowned out by Ted’s delighted laugh.
“He went all the way! He didn’t just give me a job. He made me his partner!” He stepped hard on the gas pedal, and the car lunged