Page 307 of Tis the Season to be Bullied

But what if shedoesn’twake up?

I go up to her and slide my hand in the pocket of her housecoat, but there’s nothing in there except some lint and a damp tissue. I grimace and move to the other pocket.

My searching fingertips are met with the cold, jagged edge of a key.

Yes!

As I draw the key from her pocket, it catches on something and tugs at her coat.

Marigold wakes with a snort.

I drop to my knees behind her chair, not daring to breathe.

“Indi?”

The chair scrapes back, and I’m barely nimble enough to scamper back before it can slam into my face.

Marigold walks around the kitchen island, and I wait until she’s standing in front of the oven before dashing out of the kitchen. I stand beside the hallway phone for a second to catchmy breath, and then wait till the count of ten before easing up the stairs. They all squeak, of course, but I’m hoping the sound won’t carry far enough for Marigold to hear. Especially since she’s started mumbling about shortbread and the oven door and I don’t know what other nonsense.

I slip into my room, close the door, and take a deep breath.

That’s when I see my phone’s light flickering. I hurry over and unlock it.

Addy.

She tried calling, and sent two messages while I was in the kitchen helping Marigold.

I listen to her voice mail first.

“Hey, where are you?” Her words are almost illegible over the bass thump-thump-thumping in the background. “Call me!”

The first message came in a few minutes after her voice mail, and reads:

Where are you?

The second, about thirty minutes later.

?

Shit. Well, I’m kinda glad she decided to turn on her phone again, but the timing couldn’t have been worse. When I try and phone her… her phone’s off again.

I hesitate for a second, and then send a message back to whoever sent me the image for the invitation to Dylan’s party.

I’m running late - Indi.

I send it before I can second guess myself and squeeze my hand around the key buried in my palm.

That’s when the stairs start creaking. My eyes go wide.

Marigold’s coming to check on me.

I rush over to my bed and jump under the covers. I manage to tug them up to my neck just as my bedroom door opens.

“Indi?” Marigold whispers. “You still awake?”

I remain motionless, and force my chest to rise and fall like a sleeping person’s would.

Marigold stays at the doorway for a few seconds before she closes the door and leaves. From the sound of her footsteps, she’s headed for her room.

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