Impostor Read Online Free PDF Page A

your kids has snuck out of the house. And taken your car. Jesus, Vee, you don’t even drive.”
    “Dad. I didn’t sneak out.”
    “Then what happened?” he demands.
    “Maybe we should sit down so I can explain,” I say. Sitting down might be a very good idea for this conversation.
    He eyes me warily, then follows me into the living room. I fall onto the comfy plaid couch, and he perches at the edge of his recliner.
    “Now. Tell me.”
    I take a deep breath, knowing how crazy my story is going to sound, even if I leave out any references to sliding.
    “I fell asleep in my room, listening to the radio. When I woke up, I was driving. I thought it was a dream. But then I realized it was your car, and it was all real. That’s when I . . . sort of lost control and crashed into a telephone pole.”
    “Oh. My. God.” My father lifts his hand to his mouth.
    “I’m really sorry, Dad. About the car, I mean. I don’t know what—”
    I stop talking when he rushes over and sweeps me into a hug.
    “Vee. My baby. Are you all right? Are you hurt? Let me see you.” He holds me at arm’s length and looks me over. “Your head.” He brushes my hair away from the gash and inspects it carefully. “You might need a stitch.”
    I wiggle out of his grasp. “It’s okay, really. It’s stopped bleeding.”
    My father stares. “So who drove you home?”
    “This woman who happened to be driving by.” I neglect to tell him the creepiest part, that she knew where I lived without any directions. He’s already freaked out enough as it is. Besides, I was so out of it on the car ride home, it’s possible I told her my address and don’t remember.
    “Sylvia,” my dad says firmly. “You shouldn’t have gotten into a car with a stranger. Why didn’t you call me?”
    “I didn’t have my phone,” I say weakly. “I didn’t know what else to do.”
    “My God. I don’t know what I would’ve done if you had been . . .” His voice trails off, and we avoid eye contact, each of us thinking about what could have happened.
    “You’re my heart,” he whispers, and I’m startled to see that he’s crying. I reach over and wipe away a tear that’s trickled down by the side of his mouth.
    “Don’t worry, Dad. I’m okay.”
    He manages a shaky smile.
    “Is it okay if I go up to bed now? I’m exhausted.”
    He kisses my forehead. “Of course, honey. Go get some rest.”
    I leave him alone on the couch. He doesn’t follow me up to bed. That’s good because I have no intention of resting right now. Not after the night I’ve had.
     
    Upstairs, my phone is right where I left it, on my nightstand. I grab it and punch in Rollins’s number. He answers before the phone even finishes its first ring. He sounds frenzied. “Vee! So glad you called. The show was so amazing. You listened, didn’t you?”
    “Yeah, you were really great. But I’m actually calling about something else . . .”
    Rollins is suddenly all business. “What is it? What’s wrong?”
    I suppose I can’t blame him for assuming the worst after the craziness I put him through six months ago. I called him one night, begging him to help me save my sister from the killer who’d already murdered one of her friends.
    “I’m okay,” I say, making my voice calm, trying to reassure him. “I just . . . kind of . . . crashed my father’s car.”
    “WHAT WERE YOU DOING DRIVING YOUR DAD’S CAR?” Rollins bellows into the phone. I have to hold it a few inches away from my ear.
    “I don’t know how to explain it. I fell asleep listening to your show. And then I thought I was having that dream again . . .” I swallow. “But it wasn’t a dream.”
    “What are you saying, Vee?”
    “I thought I was dreaming about riding in a car, but this time I was driving . . .” My breathing becomes labored as I find myself living through it all again. “I pulled the wheel to the right and went off the road. Right into a telephone pole. Slammed my head