Whispering Hearts (House of Secrets #3) - V.C. Andrews Page 0,83

as if he wanted to avoid the word funeral. “At eleven. St. Christopher’s.”

“I can’t get it through my mind,” Samantha said, her lips trembling.

No one spoke.

I took her hand. “Perhaps we should go rest,” I suggested.

She nodded quickly. “I’m sorry,” she told Dr. Davenport’s friends.

We turned and hurried to the stairs.

“You don’t have to go to the funeral, of course,” she said as we started up. “We’ll just tell them you left.”

“Oh. Well, I…”

“I’d rather you didn’t go,” she said firmly. “More explaining to do. There’ll be so many people there.”

“But, afterward… you’ll surely have people come here and…”

“No one will come up to your room. I’ll make sure you have everything you need. You must be very tired. I am. Tests take something out of you, right?”

“Yes,” I said, but she hadn’t had the tests. I had.

She hugged me at my bedroom door. “Thank you,” she said. “You’re absolutely perfect.”

I watched her hurry away and went in to take a nap. There was no doubt in my mind that she was going to do the same. I ended up sleeping for hours. When I awoke, it was dark, and I saw I had slept past six. The house was very quiet. I was a little surprised that Samantha hadn’t woken me. I rose, washed my face to really wake up, and then stepped out. I wondered if any more people had arrived, but I didn’t hear any voices, so I went to Samantha’s bedroom door and knocked softly. There was no response. I thought perhaps she was waiting for me downstairs, so I started for the stairway. Before I got there, I heard a door open and close and saw Mrs. Cohen walking toward me.

“How did it go for you today?” she asked as she approached.

“I think well, but I’m on some hormones, and we have to wait.”

“Yes, I know.” She seemed to be studying me. “This is quite the commitment for someone so young to make. Your reasons are none of my business, but I would assume primarily money.”

“What other reason could there possibly be?”

She nodded. “If everything goes forward, I’ll do my best to make sure you’re comfortable.”

“Thank you. How is Mrs. Davenport?”

“She’s not a well woman. All the concentration these past few years has been on Mr. Davenport, but she has some serious medical issues. She does a good job of covering them up, keeping herself busy, but as long as I’ve been employed here, I’ve known her to be in some pain. It’s probably what makes her appear so irritable at times.” She nodded at the stairway. “Going down?”

“Yes.”

She followed closely behind me and then went directly into the kitchen. I looked into the living room. No one was there, so I had started for the dining room when I saw Dr. Davenport coming down the stairs. He moved quicker when he spotted me.

“Samantha’s still asleep,” he said. “She doesn’t show it, but this is a very emotionally exhausting thing. Hungry?”

“A little.”

“Me, too.”

We headed into the dining room. There was a setting at the head of the table and two on both sides of it. He moved quickly ahead and pulled out my chair.

“Samantha will be down in a while,” he said when Mrs. Marlene looked in on us. “What’s the menu tonight?”

“Grilled salmon.”

He looked at me.

“That’s fine,” I said.

She disappeared, and he sat.

“I’ve heard from Dr. Bliskin. You’re batting a thousand so far. I think we can get you started sooner rather than later. On the day of the transfer, I’ll have the money deposited into your account. If I might suggest, we should put it in a money market so it earns a little interest while you remain here. I’ll take care of all that for you.”

“Okay,” I said. “Thank you.”

“Franklin was quite impressed with you. He claims you’re the most mature eighteen-year-old he’s seen.”

“I’m practically nineteen.”

He laughed. “Yes, that accounts for it.”

I laughed at myself. I think it was the first time I’d really laughed since I had arrived at Wyndemere. It was as if a thick black curtain had finally been lifted and we were all suddenly just people.

Mrs. Marlene began to serve our dinner.

“I take it you haven’t mentioned any of this to your family,” he said, filling my glass with water.

“No. They think I’ve taken a role in a regional theater.”

He nodded. “I’d be more comfortable about it, however, if you gave me all the details concerning your family, address, phone numbers. No one else will have it but

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