My Sister's Voice Read Online Free PDF Page B

new leg. In the past, standing up would have required a ton of effort and clunky movements. With this new leg, Kelly could stand gracefully. Lacey wished she had it in her to be nicer. But just seeing Kelly was bringing back memories of Hillcrest, and Margaret; it was almost as if just thinking about those days would bring them back. As if Lacey could blink, and she’d be a child again, back in her room, her bunk, making puppet shadows on the wall and plotting an escape that didn’t come quick enough.
    “I missed you,” Kelly said. “I hated California. I only wanted you. You were like a sister to me.”

    —You have a twin sister. Her name is Monica—

    “I have to go,” Lacey said.
    “Didn’t you miss me?” Kelly pleaded. She looked like a child herself, lost and needy. Lacey didn’t want to hurt Kelly’s feelings, but she also had to be honest.
    “No,” she said. It was true, and it wasn’t. She had missed Kelly at first. But she also hated her for having a beach, and a cool aunt. Lacey knew deep down there was something wrong with her; she didn’t have whatever it took inside to attach to other people. Whenever she got too close, she’d go on lockdown. Probably a childish reaction on her part as well, but one she didn’t know how to undo. The only reason she and Alan had been together for six years was that he didn’t put any demands on her. Had he wanted a traditional life, a traditional wife instead of a live-in girl who wanted to take things a day at a time, she knew they never would have made it this far.
    “I never forgot you,” Kelly said.
    “I’m sorry,” Lacey said. “But I had to forget you. You weren’t coming back. I went on with my life.”
    “So you didn’t think of me as a sister?” Lacey didn’t know what to say. The answer was no.
    “That’s a great leg,” Lacey said instead. Kelly just looked at Lacey and for a second all movement in the room ceased. Even the shadows on the wall sat still. “No,” Lacey said. “I didn’t think of you like a sister.”
    “I see,” Kelly said. She started tidying up, plucking toys off the floor and tossing them into a large tub in the corner of the room. “Blunt as usual, aren’t you?” Kelly added. She continued to swipe at the toys with the proficiency of one who did it twelve times a day. The child scurried over to the tub of toys and picked up each one that was tossed in, examining it as if she’d never seen it before in her life, before throwing it back herself. The child, Lacey noticed, didn’t gently toss the toy like her mother; instead she slammed it into the tub, then peered in after it to see if it had survived, before waiting for the next one to maul.
    “I didn’t think of anyone as family,” Lacey said. “Not you. Not Margaret, not one of the other dozens of kids I lived with. We were just animals in a zoo.”
    “My God,” Kelly said. Just then the screen door opened and five other children piled in, three boys and two girls. Leaving the door wide open behind them, they ran through the room to the adjacent kitchen, opened the door to the basement, and disappeared down the steps. Lacey wanted to laugh—it was like a herd of bulls had just stampeded through—but Kelly didn’t look as if she could take a joke. Kelly walked over and shut the sliding glass doors.
    “They’re my life,” she said, staring at the basement door.
    “Better you than me,” Lacey said.
    “Lacey the lone wolf,” Kelly said.
    “I have to go,” Lacey said.
    “What about Alan?” Kelly asked. “Do you consider him family?”
    “He’s my boyfriend.”
    “That doesn’t answer my question.”
    “I have to go.”
    “I’ll see you at seven.” Kelly said as she walked Lacey to the front door.
    “No,” Lacey said. “I’ll find another interpreter.”
    “Why don’t you just tell me what’s going on? Why don’t you let me in?” Lacey hated the look on Kelly’s face. She was letting her down, disappointing her. But she