The Lying Game #5: Cross My Heart, Hope to Die

A door banged loudly down the hall. She jumped and fumbled the folder, sending pages fluttering in every direction. Distant chatter grew louder as Emma lunged to gather the scattered forms. She shoved the folder back in the drawer and slammed it shut.

 

“I’ll grab Mr. Lindon’s file,” said a female voice in the hallway. Emma took a deep breath, then cracked the door and peeked out. A short dark-haired nurse was coming around a corner. Emma couldn’t leave now without getting caught. She looked around wildly, but there was no place to hide in the cramped space. Then her eyes landed on the door hinges and she realized the door opened inward. She flattened herself against the wall, silently praying the door wouldn’t open hard enough to hurt her. With a soft click, the door swung back against her. She held her breath. She could hear the nurse humming softly to herself. Dust tickled her nose—the urge to scratch it was almost painful. She clenched her fists tightly at her sides.

 

A drawer slid open, and Emma heard the sound of paper rustling as the nurse shuffled files.

 

Go away, Emma and I thought together. Get the files and go. But the nurse seemed to be taking her time.

 

The door pressed back against her as another nurse stopped in the doorway, leaning against it. “Hey, Marliz, there’s cake in the break room. It’s Huong’s birthday.”

 

“Someone’s got these files all jumbled,” complained the first voice. Emma gritted her teeth. She must not have put Becky’s file back where it belonged.

 

“Well, if that’s the worst thing that happens today, we’re in good shape.”

 

Marliz laughed. Her voice was high and girlish. “I guess it’s nothing compared to a breakout.”

 

Emma could hear the second woman step into the records room, lowering her voice. “Did you hear the latest about the Mercer woman?”

 

The words sent Emma’s body rigid. She bit down on the inside of her cheek.

 

“I heard that when they cleaned out her room they found a photo of her kid,” continued the second voice. “You know, the girl who was visiting when she flipped out? Anyways, they find this picture tucked away under her mattress. Except she had scribbled all over the girl’s face with a ballpoint pen, over and over until she ripped through the picture. Like she was trying to scratch her out or something.”

 

“Oh my God. Do you think she’s actually violent?”

 

“Who knows? I tell you what, Mar, I’ve been working on this floor for almost thirty years, and Rebecca Mercer is one of the worst I’ve ever seen. I don’t understand why her family can’t just keep her on her meds. Every time she gets off, it’s worse and worse. We couldn’t even get a complete sentence out of her this time around.”

 

“Don’t you think the daughter should know she’s at risk? A woman that crazy, there’s no telling what she’ll do.”

 

“I agree, but supposedly scribbling on a photo isn’t violent enough to merit breaking doctor-patient confidentiality.” The woman sighed. “Found that file yet?”

 

“Got it,” said Marliz. “Now let’s get some cake before it’s all gone.”

 

The door swung closed. Emma kept her back to the wall and slid slowly down to sit on the floor, her heart racing.

 

The nurse’s words echoed in her ears. Like she was trying to scratch her out or something. If the folder had been ambiguous, the photo made everything clear.

 

I had been a mistake, and our mother had finally figured out how to erase me.

 

 

 

 

 

26

 

 

YOU BETTER GET THIS PARTY STARTED

 

 

“That looks amazing,” Madeline said, watching Emma smudge slate gray eyeliner along her lid. “I love that color on you.”

 

The girls were in Charlotte’s enormous bathroom getting ready for the party. The room was decorated in gray stone tile and Caribbean blue glass. Fluffy white towels hung from the racks. Collages of the Lying Game girls hung in heavy frames on the walls—Sutton, Madeline, and Charlotte mugging in front of a giant fiberglass cowboy, the Twitter Twins making ironic gang signs in cocktail dresses, Laurel carrying a laughing Sutton piggyback.

 

Emma blinked at herself in the mirror, her eyes transformed into those of a smoldering starlet. Gabby sat at the vanity while Lili stood behind her, wrapping one of her sister’s long blond locks around a curling iron. Through the open door to Charlotte’s bedroom she could see Laurel zipping Nisha into her dress, the hot pink silk perfect against Nisha’s dark skin. Madeline stood next to Emma in her bra and panties, applying a fiftieth layer of mascara to her already long eyelashes. Charlotte was downstairs, putting the finishing touches on the decorations.

 

“I could live in this bathroom. Like, just in this bathroom and never leave,” Gabby said, looking around. Emma privately agreed—the room was bigger than some of her old foster homes. A Jacuzzi-style tub occupied a pedestal at one end of the bathroom, a mini sauna next to it. A shower with six different heads took up the opposite corner. The bathmats were thick and soft, and the whole room sparkled pristinely with the cleanliness only a full-time housekeeper could maintain.

 

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