around in her room. Josey was talking to herself, which was a new development, one Margaret wondered if she should be concerned about. Today Josey had taken entirely too long to fetch the peppermint oil, especially considering Nova Berry didn't even have it ready yet. Josey had been doing something else. The thought of Josey making a wider circle, one outside this house, made Margaret feel uneasy. Margaret had given up everything for this life, for this house, for this money. Josey would too.
She heard some scuffling, like something being dragged across the floor in Josey's room.
"Josey!" she called, putting the photo under her pillow.
A minute passed with no response.
"Josey!" she called again.
Soon Josey tapped on Margaret's bedroom door and entered. Margaret knew she wasn't a good mother. But somehow, all the horrible things Josey did when she was young, all the treasures she broke, all the tantrums she threw, all the scratches and bruises she gave, would have been a little easier to forgive if she just didn't look so much like Marco. Marco, who would swoop in once a week to take Josey on a drive because Margaret forced him to. Where was he the rest of the time, when Josey was screaming or breaking the good china? The first nine years of Josey's life, Margaret could only stare at her daughter, at what an unattractive, spoiled child she was, and wonder if she was punishment. She'd had Josey out of desperation and spite. So maybe Margaret got what she deserved. But Marco could do what he wanted, married or not, and he had no consequences to face. Men were thieves.
"Is something wrong, Mother? Do you need something?"
"What are you doing in your room? I heard a scraping sound."
"I was sitting at my desk," Josey said. "I pulled back the chair. I'll go to bed now. I won't make any more noise."
"All right," Margaret said. Josey started to turn. "Josey?"
"Yes, Mother?"
"Did you get rid of that sweater like I asked?"
"Yes, Mother."
"I wasn't trying to be mean the other day. It just doesn't look good on you."
"Yes, Mother," Josey said.
The truth was, that sweater, that color, looked good on her daughter. And every time she wore it, it hinted at something that scared Margaret.
Josey was growing into her beauty.
Margaret watched Josey leave.
She used to be a beautiful woman, the most beautiful woman around.
She brought out the photo again.
But that was forever ago.
3
Rock Candy
Across town, early the next morning, Chloe Finley stared at the door of her apartment.
Her boyfriend Jake was on the other side of the door, outside in the hall.
She couldn't believe this was happening. She'd just kicked Jake out after he'd admitted he'd cheated on her.
Dazed, she turned around . . . and tripped over a book on the floor.
She looked down at it and sighed. She'd half expected this. Whether she liked it or not, books always appeared when she needed them. She'd stopped reading as much once she met Jake. And over the past five years, ever since moving in with him, books had come to her less and less frequently. When they did show up, she ignored them. After all, how did you explain such a thing? Books appearing all of a sudden? She was always afraid Jake would think she was crazy.
She could remember very clearly the first time it happened to her. Being an only child raised by her great- grandparents on a farm miles from town, she was bored a lot. When she ran out of books to read, it only got worse. She was walking by the creek along the wood line at the end of the property one day when she was twelve, feeling mopey and frustrated, when she saw a book propped up against a willow tree.
She walked over and picked it up. It was so new the spine creaked and popped when she opened it. It was a book on card tricks, full of fun things she could do with the deck of cards her great-grandmother kept in a drawer in the kitchen for her weekly canasta game.
She called out, asking if anyone was there. No one answered. She didn't
She heard some scuffling, like something being dragged across the floor in Josey's room.
"Josey!" she called, putting the photo under her pillow.
A minute passed with no response.
"Josey!" she called again.
Soon Josey tapped on Margaret's bedroom door and entered. Margaret knew she wasn't a good mother. But somehow, all the horrible things Josey did when she was young, all the treasures she broke, all the tantrums she threw, all the scratches and bruises she gave, would have been a little easier to forgive if she just didn't look so much like Marco. Marco, who would swoop in once a week to take Josey on a drive because Margaret forced him to. Where was he the rest of the time, when Josey was screaming or breaking the good china? The first nine years of Josey's life, Margaret could only stare at her daughter, at what an unattractive, spoiled child she was, and wonder if she was punishment. She'd had Josey out of desperation and spite. So maybe Margaret got what she deserved. But Marco could do what he wanted, married or not, and he had no consequences to face. Men were thieves.
"Is something wrong, Mother? Do you need something?"
"What are you doing in your room? I heard a scraping sound."
"I was sitting at my desk," Josey said. "I pulled back the chair. I'll go to bed now. I won't make any more noise."
"All right," Margaret said. Josey started to turn. "Josey?"
"Yes, Mother?"
"Did you get rid of that sweater like I asked?"
"Yes, Mother."
"I wasn't trying to be mean the other day. It just doesn't look good on you."
"Yes, Mother," Josey said.
The truth was, that sweater, that color, looked good on her daughter. And every time she wore it, it hinted at something that scared Margaret.
Josey was growing into her beauty.
Margaret watched Josey leave.
She used to be a beautiful woman, the most beautiful woman around.
She brought out the photo again.
But that was forever ago.
3
Rock Candy
Across town, early the next morning, Chloe Finley stared at the door of her apartment.
Her boyfriend Jake was on the other side of the door, outside in the hall.
She couldn't believe this was happening. She'd just kicked Jake out after he'd admitted he'd cheated on her.
Dazed, she turned around . . . and tripped over a book on the floor.
She looked down at it and sighed. She'd half expected this. Whether she liked it or not, books always appeared when she needed them. She'd stopped reading as much once she met Jake. And over the past five years, ever since moving in with him, books had come to her less and less frequently. When they did show up, she ignored them. After all, how did you explain such a thing? Books appearing all of a sudden? She was always afraid Jake would think she was crazy.
She could remember very clearly the first time it happened to her. Being an only child raised by her great- grandparents on a farm miles from town, she was bored a lot. When she ran out of books to read, it only got worse. She was walking by the creek along the wood line at the end of the property one day when she was twelve, feeling mopey and frustrated, when she saw a book propped up against a willow tree.
She walked over and picked it up. It was so new the spine creaked and popped when she opened it. It was a book on card tricks, full of fun things she could do with the deck of cards her great-grandmother kept in a drawer in the kitchen for her weekly canasta game.
She called out, asking if anyone was there. No one answered. She didn't
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