“She’s very powerful,” I said to Cookie. “I tried to tell you.”
Cookie hadn’t wanted to listen when we spoke about Amber and her sensitive nature. Her gift. Cookie’s cousin was also touched with a gift, but she’d gone a little insane. The thought of Amber having the same abilities terrified her.
“Surely … no, you can’t be serious.”
“I am serious. And don’t call me Shirley.”
Cookie deadpanned me. Maybe she hadn’t seen the movie. After taking a moment to absorb what I was saying, she shook her head. “Okay, so maybe she does have … abilities. What does that have to do with her cutting herself in her sleep?”
I sat back in the chair. “I wish I knew. Do you remember anything, hon?”
Amber shook her head again. “I just remember waking up on your dining room table and Uncle Reyes pouring peroxide on me.”
“Sweetheart, why have you been so stressed?” I asked her. “I felt it, so don’t even try to wiggle out of this one.”
Uncle Bob took a chair a few feet away.
She folded her arms. Pursed her lips. Lifted a shoulder to her chin.
“Stress can bring on bouts of sleepwalking and apparently self-mutilation and prophesying.” Leaning forward, I tucked a strand of hair behind an ear. “You can tell us anything. No matter who is in this room. You know that, right?”
She nodded.
I let her relax a little, then hit her with, “Are you afraid of your stepdad?”
I knew if she were afraid of him, she probably wouldn’t answer with him sitting right there. But her emotional reaction would give me all the proof I needed, at which point I would promptly order him to leave the room and we would get to the bottom of this. Instead, she jumped to his defense.
“What?” She straightened in her chair. “No. Not at all.”
Relief washed over me like a welcome tidal wave. I was really worried. I gave him my best “You’re lucky, punk” look.
He gaped at me.
I turned back to her. “Okay, sweet pea. Spill.”
“It’s nothing. Really.”
“Amber,” Cookie said, her mommy voice in top working order.
“I’ve just … I think someone is stalking me.”
Uncle Bob bolted out of his chair.
I took Amber’s hand. “What do you mean?”
“I’ve been, kind of, getting texts.”
“What kind of texts?” Cookie asked.
Uncle Bob stormed out of the apartment and came back thirty seconds later with Amber’s phone. He thrust it into Cookie’s hands, whose face, as she read the texts, went from shock to disbelief to absolute horror.
She pressed a hand over her mouth.
“May I?” I asked Cookie.
She handed me the phone. I didn’t want to embarrass Amber, but stalking should never be taken lightly.
I read three texts and sat in such shock, Uncle Bob took the phone to see for himself.
“It started when I was at the mall with Brandy.” She dipped her head, ashamed. “We were taking selfies, and we stuck out our tongues. Five seconds later, I got a text that said, Stick out that tongue again, and I’ll show you what to do with it.” Amber looked at me as though pleading. “We were so scared, we called Brandy’s mom to come pick us up. We went to her house and were watching a movie.”
“This happened when you stayed the night with her?” Cookie asked.
“Yeah. Dad let me. About three weeks ago.”
Amber had been staying with her dad because Cookie was in New York babysitting little old me. I’d gone crazy and forgotten my name. Along with everything else. She was gone when Amber needed her because of me.
“You were watching a movie?” I asked her.
“Yeah. Brandy fell asleep, and I was watching the end. We were in our pajamas, and I had my feet on the coffee table, and I get a text that says, Let your knees fall apart so I can get a better view.”
Cookie began shaking.
“Mom, we were in her basement. There was only one tiny window in the basement. He had to be in Brandy’s backyard.”
“Oh, honey,” Cookie said, pulling Amber to her.
Amber still had Reyes’s hand in hers as she clung to her mother with the other. Reyes sat patiently, rubbing his thumb along the back of her knuckles. Warmth radiated through my chest as I watched him. He was going to be such a great dad when we got Beep back.
“I turned off the TV and didn’t sleep that whole night. I was so scared, I just watched the window.”
“I’m sorry, hon,” I said to her.
“Everywhere I go, he’s there. If I go to the movie, he’s there asking me if I’m sleepy yet because he drugged my soda. If Quentin and I go to the park, he’s there, saying, If you don’t stop bending over, I’m going to beat that ass.”
Cookie closed her eyes, frustration and worry coursing through her.
“Then they got even worse.”