Servants of the Storm Read Online Free PDF

the moment I lost Carly, when the tree crashed into her roof and she was sucked down the swollen river raging in the street. But from then to when I woke up in a blue gown in a hospital and was given a jar of pills, I just have a few vague impressions. None of them are comforting.
    “Like the time you threatened Mrs. Lowery with her own pizza cutter in the cafeteria,” Tamika says, laying another curl over her shoulder. “Or when everybody said you went running down the street in your pajamas, screaming that the devil was outside your window. Or at Carly’s funeral. That was the worst of all.”
    “What happened?” I ask.
    She pauses before clamping down the next ribbon of hair. Her eyes meet mine in the mirror, and I have to look away. She looks like she’s seen a ghost.
    “I can’t believe you don’t remember,” she says. “You were standing by the casket with Carly’s mama, and then you just started screaming for no reason. And when Gigi tried to calm you down, you grabbed Miz Ray by the arm and yelled ‘It’s not her, it’s not her,’ over and over again until they dragged you off. And we didn’t see you again for a month, and then you were on meds and just . . .” She shrugs. “Gone.”
    My head is pounding now, and my mouth is terribly, horribly dry.
    It’s not her, it’s not her.
    I don’t remember saying it, but goose bumps ripple over myskin with recognition. If it wasn’t Carly in the casket, then maybe I really did see her last week. Maybe I can find her again. I reach into my pocket and roll the pink bead back and forth, reassuring myself that it’s real.
    Deep inside, the memory unfurls, just a little. Just enough to remember the black linen of Carly’s mama’s suit, her tissue brushing my hand as we stood together by the gleaming white casket.
    But for the life of me, I can’t remember what I saw inside.

5
    “DOVEY? DID I FREAK YOU out?”
    Tamika drops the curling iron and pulls me into another hug. I can smell the iron singeing her bedsheet toga, but I can’t remember the last time someone hugged me before today, so I just stand there stupidly, shivering. She hugged me like this once when I fell out of a tree and broke my arm. I didn’t have the words to thank her then, and I don’t have them now. Finally the other girls start screaming and swatting at Tamika’s toga and whispering about how ruined her costume is, and right before our first dress rehearsal.
    “It’s okay,” she says, pulling back from the hug and patting me. “Right, Dovey?”
    The other girls gather around us in their togas and fairy costumes, cooing over me like I’m a three-legged dog.
    “Yeah. I’m fine. Thanks, y’all,” I say, and it’s a joy to watch their mouths drop open in surprise.
    “The mute speaks,” Jasmine says.
    The other girls move aside, and she steps into the open space like it’s a spotlight. She was always a bitch, and I know she’s been perfectly happy to see me out of the running for lead roles. She’s gorgeous as Prospero’s sister Antonia, but I can certainly understand why he would want to drown her.
    “She wasn’t a mute,” Tamika says, stepping in front of me. Good old Tamika. “She went through a lot.”
    “We all did,” Jasmine says with an elegantly lifted shoulder. “My dog ran away.”
    Rage bubbles up in my chest, a sensation now so unfamiliar that I cough and clear my throat. Luckily, just before the anger makes it to my head and pushes me into doing something regrettable to cement my reputation as the school crazy, the door opens.
    “I tole you girls not to use them curlers in here,” Old Murph says, elbowing through our circle to grab the curling iron, which is burning a hole in the cheap carpet.
    Everyone steps back as he unplugs it, his old hands so calloused, they look like they’re made of nothing but fingernail. He leaves a trail of stink behind, and I recognize the smoky smell from the hallway overlaid with old-man BO. He shakes the hot