The Originals

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The Originals Page 18

by Cat Patrick


  “Wait,” Jarrod says from behind the desk. I freeze; my heart sinks. When I turn around, I try not to look busted.

  “Yeah?”

  “There’s hot chocolate stocked in the lounge area on four,” he says. “Just down the hall from your room.”

  “Thanks!” I say, feeling like I just won the car on a game show or something. This guy thinks I’m either Ella or Betsey; he just told me they’re on the fourth floor.

  “Mugs are in the cabinet over the microwave,” he calls as the elevator doors close. Too filled with fearful excitement, I don’t answer.

  The elevator doors open to a brick wall. I step out and look left and right but find nothing but a deserted hallway. It’s just a dorm—and it’s the middle of the day—but it gives me the creeps anyway. It smells like perfume and stale popcorn, with undertones of old. The wood floor living under the dingy blue carpet creaks when I step to the right. I walk about ten feet and peer around the corner at rows and rows of doors. All of which have decorated white boards on the outsides of them.

  “Let’s start on this side,” I whisper to Sean; he nods and leads the way.

  We creep down the hall to the first door. Scrawled at the top of the white board in cursive is Welcome to the Home of Annie and Jamie. I read, shake my head, and move on. The next board says DINA AND CAITLYN in bold caps. The one after that reads Mandy’s Room. She must have a single.

  Sean and I make it all the way to the end of the hallway. We turn the corner of the massive square and find the lounge that Jarrod the front desk guy mentioned. It connects the two hallways with a little living space that has a couch and two chairs, and a TV that looks older than my mom.

  “Want some hot chocolate?” Sean whispers, clearly trying to lighten the mood. I just roll my eyes and start across the room toward the other side.

  Then I hear the elevator ding. I freeze, listening as a resident clomps down the hall we haven’t checked yet, uses a key, and then lets the door slam behind her. At least I assume it’s a her: All the doors we’ve seen so far have had female names on the boards. As far as I can tell, we’re on a girls’ floor.

  When I’m sure the person’s gone, I start down the hall, Sean following me this time, reading white board after white board. There are messages for the residents, phone numbers, and inspirational quotes, but I only care about the names at the top.

  Ryanne and Serena

  Teresa Territory

  Whitney & Courtney

  And then there it is: the blank white board. When I see it, I take a step back, like it’s going to bite me. My heart feels like it’s going to explode: I know they’re inside. Whether they’re alone or not is what concerns me.

  I hear faint music, but it doesn’t seem like it’s coming from inside: It must be some other resident’s room.

  “Are you going to knock?” Sean whispers into my ear. I see movement under the door: not a lot, just a single shadow darkening the space between the carpet and the bottom of the door for a moment. Then it’s gone.

  “What if someone’s in there with them?” I ask.

  Sean pulls out his phone and dials 911. “I’ll hit Call if anything happens,” he says. “Want me to knock?”

  “No, I’ll do it,” I say.

  I move three steps toward the door, and then take a deep breath to try to calm my nerves. It doesn’t help. I can feel the tension in every muscle in my body as I raise my hand and knock twice on the door. It’s jarring in the quiet hallway. My heart leaps when I hear someone turn the door handle.

  Then everything’s okay.

  “Betsey!” I say, rushing her and wrapping my arms so tightly around her torso that she makes a little oomph sound. She hugs back, and over her shoulder I see Ella stand up from the bed. She joins the embrace. When we part, I notice that they’re both wearing warm jackets, like they were just about to leave.

  Ella moves past me and peeks her head into the hallway. She looks left, then right, then steps back inside. “Get in here already,” she says to Sean, waving impatiently. She closes the door, but not all the way.

  “Did you see Mom on your way up?” she whispers.

  “No,” I say, shaking my head.

  “Another woman? Blond?” she asks.

  “No,” I say. “No adults. The only person we saw was that guy at the front desk. Let’s get out of here before we do see one of them.” I want to ask so many questions—mostly about Mom’s role in all of this—but I know that now’s not the time.

  “Okay, let’s go,” she says, grabbing her backpack from home and slinging it over her shoulder. Betsey does the same.

  The four of us creep down the hallway toward the elevator, but take the stairs instead. At the bottom, we see that the front desk guy is talking on the phone animatedly.

  “He can’t see us leave,” Betsey says. “I have a weird feeling about that guy.”

  “I have an idea,” Sean says. He looks at me excitedly. “Wait here—I’ll be back.” He turns and runs up the stairs; I hear a metal door open and close. Only because I’m staring into the lobby do I notice the doors on one of the elevators closing: It’s been called to the third floor. Suddenly, the alarm goes off: The elevator is stuck. Just as I hear Sean coming back through the door and starting his descent, Jarrod the desk guy stands and wanders over to the elevator. He looks up at the numbers on the top and sees that it’s stuck on the third floor. He glances at the stairwell, probably considering walking up, and we duck down below the little window. We wait a few seconds, then Betsey peeks.

  “What’s he doing?” Sean asks.

  “Waiting for the other elevator,” Bet reports. “You’re a genius, Sean.”

  “I have my moments.”

  When Jarrod’s safely inside the working elevator, the four of us tumble out of the stairwell, fly across the lobby, and rush into the blustery Colorado day. In minutes I’m leaving Bramsford University with Ella and Betsey next to me, and for the first time in twenty-four hours, I feel whole again.

  twenty-eight

  “Tell me what happened,” I say the moment we’re off campus. Betsey opens her mouth to respond, but then Sean turns in the opposite direction from the highway. “Where are you going?” I ask him.

  “I’m going to try to rent a hotel room,” he says. “I’m exhausted, and we need to figure out where we’re going next. It seems like the smart thing to do.”

  “You can’t rent a hotel room; you’re not eighteen,” Ella says.

  “I’ve done it before on trips with my friends,” Sean replies. “The eighteen thing isn’t the law; it’s policy. Sometimes they’ll rent to you just as long as you have a credit card.”

  “And you do?” Ella asks.

  “Yup.”

  We hold our conversation until we get to the hotel. Thankfully, Sean was right: He scores the room. We park near the back entrance, and the second I see the two double beds, I’m exhausted, too. But there’s no way I can sleep.

  “I think I’m going to take a shower,” Sean says, pointing toward the bathroom. “That okay?” I’m sure he’s curious about what’s going on, but I love that he’s respecting our need to talk about our family business in private. Not that I won’t update him on everything later anyway.

  “Fine with me,” I say. Ella shrugs and Betsey smiles weakly. Sean takes his bag and closes the door; soon we hear the water running. I’ve loved having Sean with me on this trip, but when I find myself alone with Ella and Betsey, I’m relieved. Maybe it’s because I don’t have to put on a brave face anymore.

  I sigh heavily as I plunk down onto the bed by the window. Ella sits on the same bed with her back against the headboard and her legs extended; Betsey joins us, folding her legs into a pretzel. I hug my knees and look from Betsey to Ella, then back again.

  “So?” I ask when we’re settled. “What the hell is going on?”

  Ella’s the one to talk; the usually boisterous Betsey is sedate.

  “A while after you left, there was a knock at the fro
nt door,” Ella begins. “I opened it, and it was this woman.” She pauses, looking guilty. “I’d seen her before—I’d talked to her before… once at the bookstore. So when she asked to come in for a moment, I let her in. She said she had something important to tell me.” Ella shakes her head at herself. “Who does that—who just lets a stranger in their house?”

  “It’s okay,” Betsey says quietly. “You were caught off guard.”

  “How did she get to the front porch?” I ask, trying to sort out the logistics. “Through the gate?”

  Ella shrugs. “Maybe she scaled it.”

  “My guess is that she walked through after you left,” Betsey says, frowning. “We certainly didn’t buzz her in.”

  “Anyway,” Ella says, “she asked if anyone else was home, and that’s when Betsey happened to come downstairs. Instead of acting surprised to see two of us, she said, ‘Oh, good: the more the merrier.’ ”

  “Who was she?” I ask, gripping my legs.

  “Maggie Kendall,” Ella says.

  “Who’s Maggie Kendall?” I ask.

  “I’m getting to that,” Ella says, crossing her legs and sitting up straighter, making herself a mirror of Bet’s position. “There we were, standing in the entryway. She obviously wanted to come in, but I didn’t invite her, so she just started talking. She didn’t ask if Mom was home: I think she probably waited until she was gone to make her move.

  “Maggie told us that she knew Mom in her old life—as a scientist. She said that she does the same type of genetic research that Mom used to do, and that she needed Mom’s help.”

  “Why didn’t she just ask Mom for Mom’s help?” I say sarcastically.

  “I guess she did, but Mom said no,” Ella says. “Anyway, she pretty much told us that she wanted us to come with her to blackmail Mom. I mean, she didn’t say it in those words, but basically. She said if we didn’t come with her, she’d release Mom’s name to the media and the FBI, along with photos of us.”

  “What?” I ask in disbelief.

  “I’m serious,” Ella says, and Bet nods. The water turns off in the bathroom, and I listen to the screech of shower curtain rings sliding along the rod.

  “So you just went?”

  “No judgment,” Ella says sharply. “You have no idea what you would’ve done in that situation. And besides, she offered us something in return.”

  “What?” I ask, thinking that there’s no way I’d have just left the house with a random stranger.

  “Identities.”

  Apparently, what Maggie wanted was pretty reasonable, and what she was offering was a better life. Ella explains that Maggie’s goal was to get Mom to spend a couple of weeks at her facility to try to fix a “hole” in Maggie’s long-running research. All that was asked of Ella and Betsey was a plane ride, a long weekend in Colorado, and a few pints of blood and tissue samples. In return, Maggie would supply driver’s licenses, birth certificates, and Social Security cards for them. There was no mention of me at all.

  “But if she waited until I left to come through the gate, she had to have seen me,” I say.

  “Maybe she figured two was good enough,” Betsey offers.

  “Or maybe she thought that once she lured Mom to her, you’d follow.”

  I laugh bitterly. “I guess I did.”

  Sean emerges, and when I catch his eyes, he smiles at me so warmly that I want to go crawl into his arms. Instead, he casually walks across the room toward the door.

  “I’ll get us some food,” he says quietly, not waiting for a response before leaving.

  “It’s nice he came with you,” Betsey says.

  “Yeah, it is,” I say.

  We’re all quiet a moment before I ask when Mom showed up.

  “Maggie called her,” Ella says. “She told us to pack bags, then when we were ready, she called Mom and told her what was happening. She said, ‘Come home quick, or your chickens will have flown the coop.’ ”

  “That’s when she ran out of the grocery store,” I say, putting it together.

  “I guess,” Ella says. “Anyway, she came home in a hurry. They made us go in the other room; we heard them fighting for a few minutes, but then Mom just gave in. She came and got us and told us we were going to Colorado.”

  “Did she say anything about me?” I ask.

  “She didn’t,” Ella says.

  “She probably didn’t think Maggie knew about you,” Betsey says. “She was probably trying to keep you safe.”

  I frown at this, still wondering why Mom didn’t call me. Then I remember that she had no idea where I was. That she’d taken our phone, and believed she’d also taken my secret cell, too. I’d left her no way of getting in touch with me.

  “I felt your panic,” I say quietly. “When did that happen?”

  “When Mom and Maggie were arguing,” Ella says. “Before then, I was sort of stunned, but then it all hit me and I completely freaked out. For a few minutes, when she just gave in so easily, I started to feel like Mom was somehow in on it. I whispered to Bet that we needed to get out.”

  “Which made me panic,” Betsey says. “But there was no time; it was too late. They came and got us before we had the chance to act.”

  “Then you left with them?” I ask. “But Mom’s car was in the driveway when I came looking for you.”

  “Yes, we went in Maggie’s BMW,” Ella says.

  “Oh my god,” I groan. “Is it red?”

  “Yes,” Ella says. “Why?”

  “I’ve talked to her before, too,” I say quietly. “At the gas station. And I’ve seen her car around. I wonder if I’d have said something…”

  “There’s no way you could’ve known,” Betsey says.

  “Seriously, no way,” Ella echoes, but it doesn’t make me feel better.

  “Tell me about the plane ride,” I say, wanting to change the subject.

  Ella sighs. “Maggie and Mom made us sit in the back; they sat in the front, snapping at each other the whole ride. It was completely surreal.” Ella rubs under her eyes and smears her mascara a little. “Then we landed and there was a car waiting to pick us up. It took us to the dorm.

  “Mom went in with us, but she only stayed a minute—she went to Maggie’s lab with her and stayed there all night. But before she left, she whispered into my ear, ‘Where is Lizzie?’ ”

  “What did you say?” I ask.

  Ella shakes her head. “I didn’t know what to say. I didn’t know what had happened at the office, and if we had what we needed to confront her. So I just said that you went off with Sean.” She looks sorry, like she’s worried she got me in trouble.

  “El, don’t worry about it,” I say. “We’re way beyond me stressing about being grounded. And besides, Mom knows about Sean.”

  “What?” Betsey gasps.

  “Totally,” I say. “I’ll tell you about it in a sec. But first, what else did Mom say to you before she left the dorm?”

  Ella shifts. “She said she was going to leave you a message at home so you’d know we were okay. And then she said, ‘Stay here—don’t go out. I’ll be back in the morning. You have to trust me that this will all be over soon. We’ll go home and it’ll be like this whole thing never happened.’ ”

  “What did she mean by that?” I ask.

  “Well, since she had no idea you were digging through her stuff, about to expose her,” Ella says, “I think it meant that she thought we could just brush the whole hostage thing under the rug and go back to living as one person.”

  “Ugh!” I shout, blowing out my breath. “Why is she so… ugh!”

  “I don’t know,” Ella says. “But that’s when we decided that we most definitely weren’t going to stay. The room didn’t have a phone, so we couldn’t call you, and we didn’t want to leave at night—we had nowhere to go. The plan was to leave in the morning before Mom came back. But then you showed up.”

  We all look at one another with a lot of emotion behind our eyes, but no one says anything for a fe
w moments. Then, finally, Bet says, “Now you tell us about the office.”

  Nodding, I begin the story of what happened after I left the house yesterday morning. I am all the way to the part about how Sean’s call nearly scared me out of my skin when I realize that Sean’s been gone for an awfully long time. I pause the conversation to text him.

  WHERE ARE YOU?

  PIZZA PLACE. OKAY TO COME BACK?

  YES, AND BRING PEPPERONI!!!

  I launch back into the story, and I’m too caught up in it to realize a few minutes later that it’s only been a few minutes. There’s a knock at the door, and I run over and fling it open. “Did you bring drinks or do we have to—”

  “Hi, Lizzie,” Mom says, frowning at me from the doorway. It hits me like a ton of bricks: the necklace. Of course Mom could find us as easily as I found Ella and Betsey. I want to smack myself on the forehead.

  “May I come in?” she asks. She looks cold: Her nose is red and I can see her breath. I hate that I feel a twinge of sympathy; I hate that I step aside.

  “I asked you to stay put,” Mom says to Ella and Betsey. “You scared me.”

  “Where’s the woman?” Betsey asks. “Maggie Kendall?”

  “Out of our lives,” Mom says flatly. “Don’t worry about her again.” She pauses. “Why didn’t you stay in the dorms? Or leave a note?”

  “Why did you want us to stay there, Mom?” Ella asks. “So we can go back to life as one person?”

  Mom looks quizzically at her, probably sensing the mutiny in the room.

  “I was just telling Ella and Bet what I found in your office, Mom,” I say from behind her. “You know, the one with the stalker walls… one for each of us?”

  As I walk by to join the others on the bed, I see Mom’s mouth open a bit; she closes it quickly.

  “We know you’re not a doctor,” Betsey says quietly.

  “But that you still get money—and a lot of it—from somewhere,” Ella says. “It’s time to come clean. Tell us what’s going on.”

  “So that’s where you were?” she asks me. “Not with Sean?”

  “That’s where I was,” I say, my eyes never leaving hers. “Looking at photos and weird notes about all three of us,” I say, crossing my arms over my chest.

 

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