Before She Was Found - Heather Gudenkauf Page 0,77
asks Jordyn, who looks to her grandfather for help. Thomas doesn’t know what to say.
“It’s okay,” Cora says in a small voice.
“It’s not,” Kendall shoots back. “It’s not okay! She made you cry every day for weeks. And don’t tell me that’s not true. I heard you! She’s not your friend, Cora.”
“Kendall, go outside,” Mara says in a shaky voice. “Right now.”
“You are so gullible,” Kendall persists. “You let people walk all over you. For once stand up for yourself. And you—” She turns to Jordyn.
“Jordyn, let’s go,” Thomas interrupts, finally able to speak. Jordyn rises from her seat, murmurs goodbye to Cora and skirts past Kendall.
“Stay away from my sister!” Kendall calls after them as they rush from the room past a tall woman lingering in the doorway.
In silence Thomas and Jordyn move through the hallways, Jordyn blinking back tears, Thomas biting his tongue. Thomas waits until they are in the truck before he speaks. “What did you do to her?” he asks Jordyn. “What did you do to that little girl?”
Dr. Madeline Gideon
September 14, 2018
I found Cora sitting up in her hospital bed watching television. Mara told me she planned on being away from Cora’s room during our morning meeting so we could have some privacy. I knew this was hard for her and understandably so, but I convinced her that this time to talk freely would be good for Cora.
She was still connected to an IV and her head was swathed in bandages. A half-eaten breakfast tray sat in front of her. I was glad to see she had at least eaten something. Next to the tray there were two bracelets made out of beads and another in purple hues on Cora’s wrist. “Those are pretty,” I said, coming to her side. “Did someone make them for you?”
“My friend Jordyn came. She brought a kit and we started to make a few.” Cora’s speech was still a bit slurred from her injuries but the swelling in her lips had gone down.
“I saw,” I said. “I looked in but didn’t want to interrupt your visit. I also saw your sister came in. She seemed very upset at your friend.”
“I don’t want to talk about that,” Cora said flatly, instantly becoming guarded.
“Okay,” I said, picking up one of the bracelets designed in shades of blue: turquoise and navy. “These are pretty. Who did you make them for?”
She held up her wrist. “This one was for me, of course, and we made one for Jordyn that looks just like mine. And that one—” she nodded toward the one I’m holding “—is for my sister.”
“May I sit?” I asked.
“Sure,” Cora said and I pulled a chair next to her bedside. “What about this one?” I pointed to the remaining bracelet on the tray. She shrugged. “What about your friend Violet? Did you make one for her?”
Cora poked at her oatmeal, cooled now to a gray paste, with her spoon and didn’t say anything.
“How is Violet?” I asked, watching her face carefully.
Again Cora shrugged. “I don’t know. I haven’t talked to her.”
“Ah,” I said. “She hasn’t called or visited you yet.”
“I don’t have a cell phone so she couldn’t call me, anyway, but she hasn’t come to visit.” She was trying to act indifferent but the visible part of her face told a different story.
“Maybe her mom won’t let her. The two of you had something very traumatic happen to you. Sometimes people don’t quite know what to say or how to act.” Cora remained silent. “Have you thought about calling Violet yourself?”
“My mom says that Violet should be the one to call me. Not the other way around. But yeah, I thought about it.”
“How does that make you feel?” I asked the age-old question.
“Sad, I guess. Lonely. I thought we were best friends.”
“What about other kids from your school? Have you heard from any of them?”
“Just Jordyn. No one else.” Cora shook her head and then winced and touched her lips gingerly.
“Are you in much pain? Do you want me to call the nurse?”
“No, that’s okay. My stomach hurts only when I get up. My eye and mouth hurts, but my mom says that once my mouth heals they’ll fix my teeth. I’ll get fake ones. Here and here.” She opened her mouth in a gap-toothed grimace.
“I bet you’re looking forward to that.”
“Yeah, but I don’t like going to the dentist,” she said.
“Me, either.” After all that Cora has been through, I thought, the terror and the pain, the dentist