Gran gave her a long look. “You didn’t notice anything? She didn’t say anything to you?”
Vi shook her head. “She barely talks to me lately.”
Gran nodded, but her frown was heavy.
She was going to take Iris away. It was only a matter of time.
* * *
GRAN WAS AT the Inn and Vi stood in the kitchen with Eric making lunch when the big beige phone on the kitchen wall rang. It sounded like an alarm bell.
“Hello?” Vi said.
“Is this Violet?”
“Yes.”
“This is Julia Tetreault. We met the other day in the woods. I’m the journalism student.”
Eric looked up from making a peanut butter and jelly sandwich. “Who is it?” he asked.
Vi shook her head. “No one,” she told him. “Wrong number.” Then she hung up, slamming the phone down into the cradle a little too hard.
The phone rang again.
“No one’s calling back, I guess,” Eric said.
Vi groaned and picked up the phone. “What?” she snarled into it.
“Please don’t hang up. Just give me one minute.”
Vi waited. “What?” she said again.
“I know about B West.”
Vi turned her back to her brother. She stepped out into the hall, as far away as the phone cord would stretch. “What do you know?”
“Experiments are going on down there. With some of the patients. You and your sister know about it, don’t you? She was telling me the truth.”
Vi was silent.
“Have you been down there? Have you seen it?”
More silence. Finally Vi asked, “What do you want?”
“I need proof, Violet. Records, photos. Without those, I’ve got no story, no evidence.”
“That’s what this is about? Your story? For some stupid college class?”
“No, Violet. It’s much bigger than that. It’s about finding out the truth.”
“And what good will that do?” Vi asked.
“If there are terrible things going on, and we get proof, we can bring it to the authorities. We can close the whole place down. Don’t you see? If what I’m hearing is true, this needs to happen, Violet. We need to do this.”
Wasn’t that what Vi wanted?
“Do you know how to get me proof, Violet?”
Vi bit her lip, thinking. Could this be her way to save Iris?
“Because if you do, we need to act fast.”
“Why?”
“My source at the Inn tells me B West is going to be shut down, all the records destroyed.”
“What?” Vi said. “Who? What source?”
“I can’t tell you that, but I can tell you that if we want to get any of those records, we’ve got to move fast. Something tells me we’re talking a matter of days here, if that.”
“Vi? Who’s on the phone?” Eric came into the hall with a peanut butter–covered knife. Vi put her hand over the mouthpiece and ordered him back to the kitchen.
“I’ve gotta go,” Vi said.
“Wait! One more thing,” Julia said. “Tell me your father’s name again.”
Vi paused, watched Eric grab his sandwich and go out the kitchen door to the backyard.
“Jackson,” Vi whispered. “Jackson Hildreth.”
“And he was a doctor? You’re sure?”
“Yes. A surgeon.”
The front door banged open.
Gran was home!
“I gotta go,” Vi said, rushing back into the kitchen to slam the phone down.
“Violet?” Gran called.
“In the kitchen.” She busied herself making her own peanut butter sandwich. “Do you want a sandwich?” she asked cheerfully. “I can get out the liverwurst.”
“No thank you, poppet. Do you know where Iris is?”
“Still sleeping, I think.”
“I’ve got something I’d like to try with her. Some new exercises. I think they may help.”
Vi swallowed hard.
“Can you go wake her up for me?”
“Sure,” Vi said.
“Send her down to the basement once she’s dressed and had some food.”
“Sure,” Vi said again.
“Good girl,” Gran said. “I don’t know what I’d do without you, Violet.” She tousled Vi’s hair.
And Vi let herself lean into Gran, let her words make her feel all lit up like the owl lamp on her bedside table. But it didn’t last. She couldn’t make herself forget what Gran had done.
Gran reached for her wrist. “I feel your pulse.”
Vi played the part, wrapped her fingers around Gran’s wrist. “And I feel yours.”
“You’ve got a strong heart, Violet Hildreth,” Gran said.
Vi pulled away, turned to go upstairs, then stopped.
“Gran?”
“Yes.”
“Iris is going to stay with us, right?”
Gran looked at her and gave a forced smile. “Of course, my lovely. Of course she is.”
But Vi knew she was lying.
* * *
“LISTEN, IRIS, IT’S really important that you act like whatever Gran does today helps you.”
Iris glared. “Helps me?”
“You have to pretend. You have to make her think that being here in the house with us is making you better. And whatever happens, you can’t let her know we’ve learned the truth. You can’t say anything about the records I took.”
Iris said nothing.
“You don’t want to go back to the basement of the Inn again, do you?”
Iris shook her head frantically, no, no, no.
The threat felt cruel, but Vi was desperate.
“Then you have to pretend. You have to act like Gran is helping you. Like you’re feeling more like your old self.”
“How?”
“Start by taking a freaking shower. Take that stupid hat off and wash your hair. Put your clothes on right. Act like a regular human being.”
Vi hated being mean, but it was what she had to do. It was the only way.
“I… don’t think I can,” Iris said in a whisper.
“Of course you can. You were doing just fine before. I’ll help you.” She gently took off Iris’s hat, got a brush, and started pulling the tangles from her greasy hair. The hair over her scar was growing in. “When you go downstairs, tell Gran that you’ve been scared lately. Scared because you’ve come to really like it here, to think of us like your family, but you’re afraid it won’t last.”
Iris nodded.
“Good. And when you come back upstairs, you’ll take a shower, put on clean clothes, then go down and ask Gran if you can help make dinner.”
“Okay,” Iris said.
“And you’re not taking the pills she gives you, right? You’re faking it?”
Iris nodded.
“I have a plan,” Vi told her. “A plan to help you. To undo everything Gran has done.”
“How?”
“I’m going back to B West. I’ll get your charts. Remember what I told you? A whole file cabinet full of notes was practically all about you and about this Mayflower Project. We’ll study them and learn everything that was done to you, then figure out how to undo it.”
Iris was shaking her head.
Vi continued, “We’ll take all the notes—the important ones, at least—and bring them to that journalist, Julia.”
“But you said no to that, to her. You told me she couldn’t really help us.”
“We’ve gotta try. She says if we bring her proof, she can tell the police what Gran has been doing here. Everyone’s gonna find out what’s going on here: the cops, the papers, the TV news, Governor Snelling, maybe even President Carter! It’s the only way to stop Gran. To not let her ever do this to anyone else ever again.”
Iris nodded, but she looked like she was being told a story she didn’t dare to believe.
“Now, go on downstairs and tell Gran how scared you’ve been—how much you love us and how happy you are here.”
“Will you come with me?”
“No. You have to do it on your own. I’ve gotta go figure out a way to get back into the Inn to get those files.”
* * *
GETTING THE KEYS hadn’t been difficult, really. As soon as Gran and Iris went down to the basement, Vi found Gran’s purse in its usual place on her desk. She took just the keys she needed off the ring—the one to Gran’s office, the one to the Inn’s back door, and the one to the basement—put the big ring back into Gran’s purse, and pedaled her bike into town as fast as she could. Eric was cage-cleaning today, so he was occupied.