The Bad Sister. Kevin O'Brien

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      He followed her out to the living room.

      In a stupor, Hannah just stood there. She’d read up on the university. How come she didn’t know about these murders from fifty years ago? She looked out the window—at the overgrown garden next door.

      “Which bed do you want?” Eden asked. “Window or wall side?”

      “Wall, I guess,” Hannah said, thinking it might be less drafty in the winter—and a bit farther away from the heavy, bad vibes of bungalow eighteen. She dropped her purse on the wall-side bed and then stepped into the living room, where Tony Bennett and Lady Gaga were singing a duet on Rachel’s music system.

      Alden uncorked the champagne. Eden stepped out of the bedroom in time to join them by the bar for a toast. Rachel handed her a full glass.

      “Here’s to a marvelous year ahead,” Rachel said, raising her flute. “And here’s to my ‘little sisters’ who have traveled so far to be here. May this be the beginning of a beautiful, magical lifelong sisterhood!”

      “Hear! Hear!” Hannah said. She got a special little thrill clinking glasses with Alden. She couldn’t tell yet if he and Rachel were romantically involved. But she hoped they weren’t. With only twenty percent of the school’s student population being male, her chances of meeting another guy as cute as him were very slim.

      Eden downed her champagne in a couple of gulps. “Thanks a lot,” she said, setting her empty glass down on the bar. “Listen, I’m going to check out the campus. See you guys later.”

      Rachel looked flummoxed. “Have fun!” she called as Eden headed out the door. She waited until the door closed and then sipped her champagne and gave Hannah a baffled smile. “Was it something I said?”

      “Or was it me and my big mouth?” Alden asked.

      Hannah rolled her eyes. “No, that’s just her.”

      “The independent type,” Rachel offered.

      “No, just rude,” Hannah admitted. “I’m never sure with her. She’s my half-sister. We’ve been living under the same roof for two years, and I still don’t get her. Anyway, I’m sorry.”

      “Oh please,” Rachel said with a dismissive wave of her hand. She grabbed the champagne bottle and topped off their flutes, then headed toward the sofa. “C’mon, take a load off and tell us all about this half-sister thing. Or shouldn’t I ask?”

      “I’ve already fessed-up and told Hannah and Eden that we’ve googled them,” Alden said, sitting in an easy chair.

      “Why, yes, you do have a big mouth,” Rachel sighed.

      “It’s okay.” Hannah smiled. She sat down on the sofa, making sure not to crowd Rachel. “I checked you out online, too. Your hair was longer in all your photos.”

      Rachel pointed to her pixie cut. “This is Jean Seberg damage—from last week. I saw a double feature of her movies Breathless and Bonjour Tristesse. Next thing you know, I was going for the scissors. My stylist cleaned it up the following day.”

      “Well, I love it,” Hannah said. She meant it, too. In just a matter of minutes, she’d done a complete about-face on her first perception of Rachel. Her “big sister” wasn’t crazy at all. She was unique, stylish, sophisticated, and fun. Already, Hannah wondered if Rachel might sometime let her borrow that cute top or the Capri pants. She and Rachel looked about the same size.

      After only one glass of champagne, Hannah had become quite relaxed and didn’t mind telling them all about the half-sister thing—and how her family was affected by Eden moving in with them. She even explained how the thing that happened had wrecked her friendships at school. After her second glass of champagne, Hannah realized she’d been monopolizing the conversation. “Aren’t you sorry you asked about my sister?” she finally asked. “Listen to me. I didn’t mean to talk your ear off.”

      “Are you kidding?” Rachel said. “I read about what happened—with the murders and all. So I was curious. But hearing you tell it, well, suddenly, it’s not just some news story. It’s real. It happened to you and your family.” She glanced at her wristwatch. “God, I didn’t realize how late it is.” She turned to Alden. “If you still want to go to Lake Bluff, we should get cracking.”

      Hannah had a bunch of questions she wanted to ask them—mainly if they were dating each other. But suddenly, the two of them got to their feet. Alden collected the empty flute glasses and set them by the kitchen sink. Rachel switched off the music and then took her cell phone out of her purse. “We should let you unpack and get settled,” she said, staring at her phone as she texted someone. “Feel free to turn on the TV or the sound system. Help yourself to whatever’s in the fridge. You’re probably dying for a shower. The bathroom’s upstairs . . .”

      “And remember while you’re in there, if it’s yellow, it’s not mellow!” Alden added as he and Rachel headed toward the door.

      “Gross,” Rachel said. She glanced over her shoulder at Hannah. “If you go out, don’t forget to lock up. See you later!” Then she stepped outside and shut the door behind her.

      Hannah went to the front window. Rachel and Alden walked to the curb, and a black Lincoln Town Car pulled up. Alden opened the back door for Rachel, and they climbed inside. Obviously, it wasn’t an Uber. The vehicle must have been waiting for them down the block. They’d left in such a hurry that Hannah couldn’t help thinking she’d talked too much. Or maybe they were just late for something.

      She watched the Lincoln Town Car head down the street. The living room suddenly seemed hot and stuffy again. And in an instant, she felt hopelessly lonely. Her eyes watered up. Was this how homesickness was going to hit her—in these awful, unpredictable tsunami-like waves?

      She wanted to phone home. But she knew she’d start crying as soon as she heard her mother’s voice—her mother, toward whom she’d been so critical and snippy these last few years. Everything her mother did had struck Hannah as stupid and embarrassing. Now, she missed her so much that her stomach ached. Or maybe it was the champagne making her over-emotional. She couldn’t call home now anyway. They’d want to talk to Eden.

      Wasn’t that just like her to disappear? Typical.

      Hannah went back into the narrow bedroom, opened her suitcase, and unpacked a few items. It was still smoky in there. She moved over to the window.

      She gazed out at the slightly unkempt garden next door and shuddered. She couldn’t help thinking about what had happened in the bungalow that had been there fifty years ago.

      CHAPTER SIX

      Thursday, 8:16 P.M.

      By the time Eden reached the parking lot of the Sunnyside Up Café, she was exhausted.

      She’d explored the campus. Most of the buildings were closed up—except for a couple of dorms and the student union, which didn’t look too interesting. She wanted to check out the recreation center, which included an indoor pool, but a sign on the locked door (she’d tested it) said the rec center didn’t open until tomorrow.

      Eden also checked out the surrounding neighborhood. A street of old mansions along the lake bluff had been converted to housing for upperclassmen, СКАЧАТЬ