Sound Page 18

  “Mandy?” I said.

  She looked briefly at us, her mouth gaping slightly as though she were too weak to close it.

  Savannah placed the book and the flavored lip balm on the chair next to her. The book was an inspiring one about a teen who had overcome depression and moved on to create a private online community that supported those who had been through it. The lip balm was something we just thought she might like.

  Mandy glanced at the gifts. “Thanks,” she whispered.

  “We just wanted to see how you were doing,” Savannah said.

  Mandy shrugged.

  She was probably on some kind of sedative or calming agent, and we didn’t expect her to be all chatty with us.

  “Is there anything we can do for you? Anything we can bring in?”

  “Cigarettes?” She chuckled. “Vodka?”

  Well, she was still there in that limp, tired body. She was still Mandy.

  “I don’t think that would go down too well with the staff,” I said casually. “But we could bring chocolates next time. The really expensive Belgian ones?”

  She tilted her head toward us. “A big box, please.”

  I smiled. “Deal.”

  We sat for a while, occasionally making small talk, but mostly just sat there. After a while we stood and told her we’d let her get some rest.

  On our way toward the door, Mandy said, “Serena?”

  I turned back around.

  “Tell Lara I’m sorry?”

  I nodded.

  “And I’m sorry you got hurt, too.”

  I shrugged. “It’s okay. I’ve been getting lots of sympathy and haven’t had to do any chores for a week, so it’s all good.” I put my hands into my pockets, and a tiny hint of a smile flickered on Mandy’s lips. “I’m sorry, too, about what I said that day in class, after presenting the science project.”

  After the ambulance had taken us both to the hospital and I’d later been discharged with a variety of dressings and pain relief, it had hit me that maybe somehow I’d contributed to her decision to jump off that cliff because I’d told her that Lara was more of a gift to the universe than she would ever be. Mom had held me as I’d cried in bed that night and told me it wasn’t my fault, that she would have made that decision regardless. I knew she was right, but it had still bugged me, and I needed to apologize.

  “Already forgotten.” She waved her hand loosely at me. And then her eyes became shiny. “Serena, I know now that if I’d jumped and you hadn’t caught me, I would have regretted it. In that brief, final moment I would have wished I hadn’t done it. I would have screamed for help but it would have been too late.” She looked at me and her dark, puffy eyes met mine. “Thank you.”

  All the buildup and uncertainty of the last several weeks left my mind, and a sense of purpose and power replaced it. I had made a difference. With the help of my sisters and our gift, I had made a difference. I had been able to prevent this tragedy from occurring. If I—if we—could do something like this, then who knew what else we could do? Who knew what other good we could achieve by listening to and trusting our intuition, our abilities, and each other? I was ready. Yes, my mind would probably get overexcited and overanalytical sometimes, but that was just me. And that was okay. But deep down, I now knew that I was strong. And that the collective power of The Delta Girls was even stronger. Together, we could navigate this ongoing journey, together we could be victorious, together we could find answers to the questions that plagued us.

  One step, and one vision, at a time.

  • • •

  “What’s Talia doing?” Savannah asked when Riley dropped us home and we walked through the front door.

  My eldest sister was sitting cross-legged in the corner of the room with her eyes closed and her hands resting gently on her knees. She was so still she could have been mistaken for a piece of furniture.

  “She’s practicing maintaining her own strong vibration while in the presence of others,” Tamara said. “To prevent getting overwhelmed by the draining energies from other people.” She nodded. “Mom gave her some kind of flower essence to take under her tongue, and advice on what to do. She said she sometimes felt the same when she was working in the spiritual field.”

  “What you should be asking, though, is what is Mom doing?” Sasha said.

  It was then that I heard it. The unmistakable sound of sloshing water and clattering dishes.

  Oh, Mom. What are you hiding?

  “We need to get to the bottom of this,” I said.

  I walked into the kitchen, and my sisters followed. Even Talia broke away from her trance and joined us.

  Mom turned briefly to look at us, her arms up to her elbows in sudsy water. “Oh, to what do I owe the pleasure of all your company at once?”

  I glanced at Talia, who nodded, then I spoke: “We know you’re keeping something from us, Mom. Please talk to us.”

  She bit her bottom lip. “Oh dear, I can’t keep a secret around you girls, can I?”

  She took her arms out of the sink and removed her washing-up gloves, placing them on the counter and giving her hands a quick wipe with a tea towel. “You’re right, that letter does indicate that your dad knew his life was in danger.” She took a deep breath. “Have you ever thought, though, that there might just be a reason why his spirit is so elusive, like why he doesn’t want you to know what led to his death?”

  I exchanged worried glances with my sisters. I did wonder why he didn’t just appear to Savannah, or let me hear his voice, and tell us what happened and where his body was. Mom had originally said that sometimes spirits get confused and that the emotional trauma from their deaths can make it hard for them to communicate with the living. But maybe there was more to it than that.

  I eyed my mother, urging her to tell us more of what was on her mind.

  “C’mon,” she said, leading us to the living room where Savannah, Sasha, and I sat around her on the couch, while Tamara and Talia sat in front of her on the floor. Mom took another deep breath, then swallowed a gulp. “There’s something else I need to tell you about your father.”

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