Page 104 of The Glass Girl

Love, bella

Day Ten

It’s phone day.

Fran finds us in the activity room and hands Holly, Brandy, and Billy their phones from the plastic tub. Brandy cradles hers like a baby, rubs it against her cheek.

Holly punches in some numbers and waits, her forehead creased in concentration. Then she puts her phone back down on the table. I guess whoever she tried to text didn’t answer.

Billy’s fingers are flying as he texts.

“I’ve missed you, my little friend,” Brandy says. She pets her hot-pink phone tenderly.

“Congratulations,” Fran says. “You’ve made it to Day Ten and you have your phones back. The rule is one hour a day, so use it wisely, then we’ll collect them again. No filming of any kind, in any place in the compound, no photos of other residents without their consent. This is also your time to call your parents or caregivers if you’d like. But remember,onehour. Don’t screw it up, or you lose phone privileges.”

She tucks the plastic tub under her hip.

“Bella, since you don’t have a phone, would you like to use this time on the house phone to call your parents? We’ve notified them that this is the hour you’ll call if you feel up to it.”

I nod. I follow her out of the activity room and down the hall. She opens a door. Inside there’s a table with a phone andchair.

“I have to dial for you, okay?” Fran says. She takes a little slip of paper out of her jeans pocket and dials the number. She hands me the phone and then whispers, “I’ll be back in fifteen minutes. This one is to your mom, then I’ll come back in and dial your dad.”

She leaves.

My mom picks right up.

“Bella,” she says. I can tell she’s been crying even before this call. Her voice is shaky and soft. “Oh, my baby, I miss you.”

“I miss you too,” I answer. It’s true; I do. I can feel my lips shaking. I press the receiver closer against my face.

“How is it? Is it okay? I don’t really know much about it, it was recommended by a friend of Mom’s, you remember June at the farm? She has a friend who works there and—”

I cut her off. “It’s fine, Mom. It’s fine.”

I sit down in the chair. On the wall, in very small writing, so small I have to lean closer to see it, someone has writtenkill me now.Soft, with a pencil.

There’s a silence. “Are you mad at me? Bella, I did what I thought was best. You hurt yourself so badly. Can you understand why I had to do it?”

I think about that letter I wrote to her.

“I am,” I say. “I am mad at you. Maybe not for sending me here, exactly, although I was when I first got here. But mad about other stuff. I don’t…I don’t know that I want say it right now. We only have a little more time and then I talk to Dad.”

“Bella…” She hesitates.

Her voice sounds…scared, almost.

“What?” I say. “What is it? Is he okay?”

“He’s not going to be able to talk to you today. He had a meeting come up, and—”

My stomach drops.

Of course.

“Oh,” I answer.

“He’s very sorry. He’ll be at parents day on the fifteenth. That’s all set. He promised. I don’t know why he can’t get out of this meeting, either. It’s not like this call hasn’t been scheduled since Day One, but you know your—”

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