Page 3 of Hell Gate

“You’re permitted to enjoy free time between lunch and dinner in the afternoons,” Mrs. Talbot intones. “Do as you like, or work if you’re inclined to seek a job. If you’re home for dinner, we eat at six. If not, you’re on your own. The fridge is stocked for such occasions and food is labeled accordingly.” Her expression, if possible, turns even more strict as she speaks slowly like I’m an idiot. “Do not take from any container labeled for meal times. I specifically portion it out myself.”

I nod dutifully, half-tuning her out. Jesus, Mrs. T. needs to get a grip. Or maybe let her bun down. From the corner of my eye, the door opens and my new roommate slips in. At first glance she’s plain and lanky, but her fingernails are painted in a riot of color. She perches on her bed while our matron lectures me with the welcome speech.

Mrs. Talbot pauses again, scrutinizing my hair. I resist the urge to paw at my shoulder-length waves.

“If your hair is dyed that garish shade of red, you won’t be allowed to use the bathroom for any home chemical kits.”

“It’s natural,” I reply stiffly.

“I see.” She sighs as if even my fiery red hair is an affront. “I’ve already told you about the mines. You’re also to keep off the road that runs north of town. It connects to the underground coal fires still burning. Parts of the road disintegrate without warning.”

Her words come out brittle and harsh. She flexes her hand, darting her glistening eyes to the window behind me. I look at the girl sitting quietly on her bed to get a hint if this is the norm with the matron or not. She’s absorbed in her phone. It’s a newer model than mine, which is so old it’s practically a flip phone.

“Most importantly, stay away from the graveyard on the county road. It’s the Devil’s land. Poisoned ground. If I hear you’ve been there, you’re out. It’s absolutely forbidden.” Mrs. Talbot stops talking, her face paling. She takes several deep breaths before she seems to regain her composure. Her shaking hand motions toward my roommate. “Marie will help you for the next few days. Once you have your bearings, I expect you to be prompt, attentive, and obedient.”

With that, she leaves, closing the door harder than necessary behind her. A skeptical frown tugs at my lips.

“What’s up with that?”

Marie shrugs. “Don’t worry. It’s nothing—just an old wives’ tale she likes to spread to scare us all into submission.” She rolls her eyes. “At least you got The Talk, as we like to call it, at your age. I had to get it at twelve and was terrified she was going to give me a sex ed lecture.”

My mouth slowly curves into a lopsided smirk. The shape of the barely there smile feels foreign. “Does that crone even know what sex is?”

She grins, hitching her shoulder. “Possibly. She had a son.”

“Had?”

“Yeah, he died in some crazy accident when he was a teenager.” She glances at the door. “We’re not supposed to know about it, but she talks in her sleep sometimes and calls his name, begging him not to go somewhere.”

Chills break out across my skin and guilt for laughing at Mrs. Talbot hardens into a pit in my stomach. Life sucks. I know that fact better than most.

“Anyway, I just came in for this.” She grabs her purse and heads for the door with a wave.

I don’t ask where she’s going or see if I can go with her. It’s not my business. I’ve learned it’s best to keep to myself. There’s no point in making friends with girls who could forget about you tomorrow.

Flopping back on the bed, I wriggle to get comfortable on the lumpy mattress, turning my attention to the window outside. There isn’t much of a view, only an old tree closer to death than life.

I can survive a month here. I’ve lived through far worse than a group home in the boonies with an uptight matron.

The second I’m on my own, I’m out of here. I don’t know if I’ll catch a train back to Philly, or head somewhere else. As long as I put Brim Hills behind me.

CHAPTERTWO

LILY

Twenty minutes after Mrs. Talbot shouts lights out and climbs to the third floor for the night, my new roommate shines her phone flashlight as she slips her shoes on. She’s fully dressed in dark clothes.

I am too, but it’s because I haven’t mustered the motivation to unpack yet. I haven’t moved from this spot all afternoon. Mrs. Talbot wasn’t happy that I skipped dinner on my first night. I’m off to a great start with this whole punctual obedience thing she thinks she’ll get out of me.

“Come on,” Marie says when she catches me watching from my sprawl across my lumpy mattress.

“Isn’t there a curfew?” I mutter.

She scoffs. “Yeah, you really seem like the type of girl who follows the rules. Come on. We do this all the time.” She crosses the room and tugs on my arm. “She sleeps like the dead and always goes to bed early so she can get up before sunrise. She’s got a thing for the newspaper delivery guy, but don’t mention it, or you’ll piss her off.”

My brows lift. That’s a different picture than she painted earlier of our stern matron.

An owl hoots in the tree outside the window by my bed. At least I hope it’s an owl. I’m not used to all this nature shit. The quiet stillness of this place is unsettling as hell compared to the constant noise, motion, and lights of city living. Without all that, I hear too many of my own thoughts. It’ll take me at least another two hours to exhaust myself into sleep in this unfamiliar bed.

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