The Circle of Lies

by Crystal Velasquez

  Dad slid his eyes over to me as if to confirm the story, but for the life of me, I couldn’t figure out what was real. I had hit my head pretty hard. My eyes still felt so heavy, and the more I thought about a pack of wild dogs breaking into the apartment to attack me, the less likely it seemed. I thought back to Principal Ferris telling me they hadn’t seen anything on the tape besides me. She hadn’t seen any eagles. Maybe I was crazy and had imagined the whole thing. Maybe all the Wildcats were. Which meant this could all be in my mind too.

  “I don’t know what to say, Dad,” I said. “I can’t think straight. And I have a headache.” I massaged the knot that was swelling on the back of my head. Could I seriously have thrown myself onto the floor?

  Dad knelt beside me and put his hands on my shoulders. “Sounds like a bad case of jet lag,” he said. “Traveling as far as you have has been known to cause all sorts of side effects—some of them pretty serious. Sleepwalking, migraines. I’ll see about getting you checked out by a doctor in the morning. But for now let’s all try to get some sleep.”

  He helped me to my feet and walked me all the way to the bedroom, kissed me on my forehead, and said good night. I climbed into my bed feeling like I’d been beaten up, my heart still hammering away in my chest. I did my best to slow my breathing, to think happy thoughts so I could go back to sleep. But something was still bothering me.

  “Kiah, did you see how I hit my head on the floor?” I asked, but her only response was a deep steady snore. Kiah was already sound asleep.

  When I woke the next morning, the room was warm and bright, the sun streaming through the sheer white curtains. Someone was snoring peacefully in the other bed, and for a brief, happy second, I thought it was Doli and we were in our dorm room in Radcliff Hall. But then I remembered. I was in Mumbai, and Doli was back at Temple. I checked the clock: 8:30 a.m. Right now Doli was probably having dinner with Lin and Ana, or watching TV in the common room, while I was stuck here with Kiah. I glanced around at the pictures of her friends, her favorite celebrities, her oh-who-cares-what on the walls that continued to shout, My Room, My Room, My Room. I was almost surprised that she hadn’t peed all over it like a dog to mark her territory.

  The rest of the house was still quiet. I crept out of bed and inspected myself in the full-length mirror mounted on the back of the door. I had scratches on both arms and a gouge on my hand that I would swear was from a dog’s tooth. Could I have scratched myself? I doubted it. I barely had any nails to speak of. Not as a human, anyway.

  I took my bathrobe out of my suitcase and put it on, then knelt down and swiped my hand across the hardwood floor, feeling for claw marks. There had to be some evidence that I’d been dragged out of there by an animal, but I couldn’t find a single scratch in the smooth brown wood. I stood up and grabbed my phone, which I’d kept by my side all night, and slipped it into the pocket of the bathrobe, then went into the living room. Maybe if I saw it in the light of day, I thought, without anyone around to confuse me, I could think clearly about last night.

  Did I dream it?

  I must have. But even my Hunter dreams hadn’t been that vivid. I sank down to the carpet and dragged my fingers through the plush fibers, trying to recall how I had ended up there. Kiah had said I’d walked, but I remembered being dragged across cold hardwood and then dumped onto this very soft carpet. Considering I’d never even been in this apartment before yesterday, how could I have dreamed those details so perfectly? How would I—

  My hand, which had been running through the luxurious rug, suddenly came across a tiny pink scrap of cotton. I plucked it up with my fingers and held it to the light.

  It was from my pajamas.

  I didn’t dream any of it! Without even looking, I knew that there was a matching hole somewhere on the pajamas I still had on, and I knew this material was strong enough that I couldn’t have ripped it with my bare hands. I would have needed a knife—or claws.

  And if dogs had really been in the apartment, that meant somebody had to have let them in.

  That person had to be Kiah.

  One thing was for sure. I would have to watch my back from now on. Kiah was more than just obnoxious—she was dangerous. But why? I wondered. Surely she wouldn’t have tried to kill me just so she could have her room to herself again.

  Just then I heard the clink of a spoon against a cup behind me. I turned to find my dad standing in the adjoining kitchen, smiling. “Up nice and early, I see,” he said. “I’m not surprised. You pretty much passed out right after dinner yesterday.”

  “Yeah, I guess I did,” I agreed.

  “I thought I’d make us some chai. Sound good?”

  “Sure, sounds great,” I said, following him to a bar stool on the other side of the kitchen island while he pulled out a silver teakettle, filled it with water, and set it to boil. “Dad, can we talk?” I asked tentatively.

  “Of course,” he said. “You can talk to me about anything.”

  “It’s about last night . . .”

  Dad waved me off with a flick of his hand. “No need to be embarrassed, sweetheart. It could have happened to anyone.”

  “Embarrassed?” I said, crinkling my eyebrows. “Why would I—”

  “After all,” he continued, “you have so much on your mind right now.”

  “Well, that’s true, but—”

  “Not to mention the jet lag. Plus, did you know you used to sleepwalk when you were small?” He opened another cabinet and pulled out two teacups.

  “What? No, I didn’t know that. But I don’t think—”

  “I remember this one time when you were five years old. You got up in the middle of the night, and I had to stop you from walking right out the front—”

  “DAD!” I slammed my hands on the counter, and Dad startled, clacking the teacups together. “I don’t feel embarrassed, and I don’t think I was sleepwalking. I think . . .” I took a deep breath. “I think Kiah was trying to hurt me. Look!” I held out my arms, turning them this way and that so he could see all the scratches cutting into the flesh in angry red lines.

  Dad set the teacups down and took a step away from me, his eyes wide. “You can’t be serious,” he said. “Shani, you fell over while you were sleepwalking. Any number of things could have caused those scratches. Why would you blame Kiah?”

  “I wouldn’t say something like that to you if I didn’t believe it,” I said. “I think she let some dogs from outside in . . . I’m not sure exactly what happened, but—”

  “But you’re willing to accuse your stepsister of something so terrible?” he finished for me. He looked down at the floor and shook his head. When he lifted his eyes to me, I saw a touch of anger there, but mostly a profound disappointment. “You know, Shani, I understand that all of this is strange for you, and I considered the possibility that you and Kiah would not be instant friends, but this . . . This is ridiculous.”

  “But, Dad, why would I accuse her of something if I didn’t think she’d done it? That is so not my style. I even have proof.” I opened my hand to reveal the piece of pink fabric. “I found this on the carpet in the living room. It was torn off my pajamas. I didn’t do that. Dad, I remember being attacked last night, and Kiah was the only one there.”

  “Oh, Shani,” he said, and this time he looked like he felt sorry for me. “Your mother told me that you’ve been troubled, but I didn’t realize how serious the problem was until just now. Don’t you see that Kiah is family? You don’t need to feel threatened by her, and you certainly don’t need to make up wild stories to get me on your side.” He took the scrap of fabric from me and dumped it into the trash under the sink.

  I couldn’t believe this. I knew my version of events sounded far-fetched, but didn’t I deserve the benefit of the doubt? Kiah might have been his stepdaughter, but I was his blood ! I realized with a sinking feeling that I was on my own, just as Mom had said I was. She’d been right all along.

  Just then my phone beeped in my pocket. I pulled it out
and saw I had a text from Ana. I swear, it was like somehow she knew I needed a reminder that I had friends. I swiped my finger across the screen to read the whole message, but my father reached across the counter and snatched the phone out of my hands.

  “This is part of the problem,” he said, looking at the phone as if it were a pack of cigarettes. “You’ve always been more interested in digital life than real life, and it looks like you’re starting to have trouble telling the difference. I think maybe you need time away from electronics to clear your head.”

  “Wait, what?” I got to my feet. “Dad, you can’t do that to me.”

  “I’m not doing anything to you; I’m doing this for you,” he said. “You can hold on to your laptop since you will need that for school, but it doesn’t leave this house.” He slipped my phone into his pocket and went back to getting the tea ready.

  All right, stay calm, I told myself. This isn’t that bad. I get to keep my laptop, which means I can still e-mail my friends. I backed out of the kitchen before Dad could change his mind. But I had just reached the doorway when he said, “One more thing: I’m turning off the Wi-Fi during the day, and disabling your password altogether. You won’t be needing it after all.”

  The teakettle let out a long, loud whistle that sounded like a scream.

  chapter 8

  Ana

  “THIS IS LIKE SOME KIND of nightmare,” I said. “I’m ruined.”

  Lin, Doli, and I were walking back to the dorm from English class. I was still clutching my paper on Macbeth in my hands, peeking at it every once in a while, hoping against hope that the next time I looked, the B minus written there would have magically changed into an A.

  “Oh, boo hoo.” Lin pulled her own paper out of her backpack. It had a large red D right at the top. “I would be thrilled with a B minus right about now, so quit being so miserable.”

  “It’s just that English is usually my best subject. I don’t know what happened!”

  “Don’t be so hard on yourself, Ana,” Doli said. “You’ve had a lot of other stuff on your plate—a full load of classes, taking care of the cat, trying to prevent an ancient evil cult from returning the world to an apocalyptic state of chaos. . . . Your schoolwork was bound to suffer.”

  I smiled. Leave it to Doli to put everything in perspective. “I know you’re right. Still, my aunt and uncle aren’t going to be too pleased when they see . . .” I let the words trail off and fade away, feeling a familiar dread settle into my stomach. I gulped. I had been about to say that they wouldn’t be happy when they saw my grades. But right now I’m not even sure where they are . . . or if I’ll ever see them again. I quickly banished the terrible thought from my mind. I couldn’t give up on them. I had to trust Ixchel to uncover the truth, and I had to hold on to my faith that I’d see my family soon. But still, the dread lingered. “Scratch that. What I wouldn’t give to have Uncle Mec here, nagging me about my grades,” I said.

  Doli nodded and patted me on the back. “I know. But hey, we can do the next best thing. Let’s go Skype Shani. She’ll rag on your grades for you.”

  “Just don’t ask her to hack into the system and change your grade—not even as a joke—because she’d do it,” Lin added.

  “Roger that,” I said.

  It felt strange walking into Doli and Shani’s room without Shani. Almost all of her things were gone, but Doli had refused to take over Shani’s space, in case she came back. So on one side of the room were pictures and books and a red throw that Doli’s grandmother had made—and on the other side was an empty desk and a stripped mattress.

  “Let’s see how Shani’s doing.” Doli opened her laptop and connected to Skype, but then she leaned back, looking puzzled. “That’s weird. She’s not online.”

  I checked the time. “Well, it is pretty late in Mumbai right now. Maybe she’s asleep,” I said.

  “Maybe,” Doli replied. “She hasn’t been online in a long time, though. It’s not like her.”

  “Didn’t you say she hadn’t seen her dad in months?” Lin asked. “Maybe she’s just spending lots of time with him, catching up.”

  “I hope so,” I said. “I’d hate to think she’s avoiding us because she’s mad that we didn’t back her up about what happened in the gym.”

  Doli shook her head. “No way. It was her idea for us to keep quiet. She knows we would have had her back if it would have made any difference. No, I’m sure she’ll get in touch when she can.”

  I sat on Shani’s empty bed and sighed. “In the meantime let’s call Ms. Benitez to see how things are going in Cancún. She probably would have called if she’d found my aunt and uncle, but it’s worth a try. I could really use some good news.”

  “You’ve got it.” Doli brought up Ms. Benitez’s photo and clicked to initiate a conversation. But no one picked up. The computer just rang and rang. “Guess she isn’t there right now.”

  I chewed on my bottom lip. “Okay, but have any of you heard from her at all since that first e-mail?”

  “Not me,” Lin said.

  “Me either,” added Doli.

  “That makes it unanimous,” I said. “I’ve e-mailed her a few times to see how the search was going, but she never answered.”

  The three of us exchanged worried glances.

  “She’s probably just out looking for your aunt and uncle,” Doli reasoned.

  I shook my head. “I have a bad feeling, and if being a Wildcat has taught me anything, it’s to trust my instincts.” I took out my phone and pulled up the name and number of the hotel in Cancún where Ms. Benitez was supposed to be. I showed it to Doli. “Let’s try calling the hotel.”

  Doli dialed the number, and after two rings a male voice said, “Buenos días. The Riviera Maya Inn. How may I help you?”

  “Yes,” Doli jumped in, “we were just trying to reach someone who checked in a couple days ago, Yvette Benitez?”

  “Certainly. Hold for one moment, please.” He put us on hold for a few seconds, and when he came back on the line, he said, “I’m sorry. Ms. Benitez did have a reservation, but she never checked in.”

  “No, that can’t be right,” Doli said. “Can you check again?”

  “I assure you, our records are accurate,” he insisted, sounding a little annoyed.

  I leaped up and leaned toward the speaker. “Sir? Could you maybe try”—I winced, knowing how crazy this would sound—“Mrs. Ixchel?”

  “Excuse me?” the man said. “What was that name?”

  Lin gave me a quick shake of her head and closed her eyes, as if I were embarrassing her in public. “Ixchel,” I repeated. “I-x-c-h-e-l.”

  There was a pause and the sound of a keyboard clacking. “I have nothing in that name,” said the man. After thanking him, we hung up.

  Doli’s eyes were wide. “She never got to the hotel.”

  “Yeah, that isn’t good,” Lin added. “Do you think something happened to her?”

  “Maybe,” Doli said. “If the Brotherhood really is setting up camp in Cancún, maybe they could sense her coming and they were waiting for her. If they were going to attack her, it would have been before she met up with her contacts. Ana, I bet that whoever is holding your aunt and uncle have Ms. Benitez now too.”

  “So what do we do?” Lin asked in a strained voice.

  “I go after her,” I answered immediately. “The only reason Ms. Benitez went to Cancún was to help me. If she ended up in danger, it’s my fault. I won’t leave her out there to fend for herself.”

  Lin lifted her perfectly tweezed eyebrows. “You, as in by yourself? Uh-uh, no. We already let Ms. Benitez and Shani go off on their own, and now they’re both missing in action. The rest of us stick together from here on out. Besides, how would you get there? I’m guessing you don’t have hundreds of dollars in your pocket to pay for a flight, and with your aunt and uncle missing . . . well, they aren’t around to cover your travel expenses. Plus, I know that I travel internationally all the time, but do you two even have p
assports?”

  “Actually, I do,” I said. “I got one last summer before my family and I drove up to Canada to see Niagara Falls.”

  “I have one too,” Doli added. “Coach Connolly had me get one in case I got to compete in the track meet in England at the end of the year.”

  “Okay,” Lin conceded. “We’ve all got passports. But unless you have three flying broomsticks in your backpacks or some cash I don’t know about, we’re stuck.”

  “No, we’re not,” Doli said. Lin and I turned to her with curious stares. “Isn’t it obvious? We’ll take the Temple Academy jet.”

  “I thought of that,” I said. “But it’s only supposed to be used for emergencies.”

  “I’d say your aunt and uncle—and our teacher—being missing counts as an emergency,” Doli replied.

  I got up and paced the room. “Right, but we can’t tell Principal Ferris that without telling her all the rest of it. She’ll think we’ve lost our minds.”

  “So we’ll come up with something else. All we need to do is convince her that we really need to borrow the jet, and we need it right away.” Doli smiled confidently.

  Lin laughed. “Oh, is that all?” she scoffed. “That should be a breeze.”

  “Trust me.” Doli’s eyes sparkled. “I have a plan.”

  A few hours later we were on our way to Principal Ferris’s office. I had swapped my Macbeth paper for one I had just written. It was called “Mayan Culture and Its Influence on Modern-Day Hispanic Identity.” Pretty serious-sounding stuff, but it was mostly full of things I’d learned from Aunt Teppy and Uncle Mec. They’d taught me so well, I’d been able to write the paper from memory.

  “Remember, just stick to the story, exactly like we rehearsed it,” Doli said. “Why do you need to borrow the jet, Ana?”

  I repeated the story we had worked out. “We’re doing a research assignment on the Mayans for Spanish class, and we need to visit the Mayan villages in person in order to make sure our facts are correct.”