Vivian Apple Needs a Miracle Read Online Free PDF Page A

the moon casting a weird glow on its surface. The pool is separated from the white crash of the Pacific by a low rock wall. Beyond the pool are weird stone structures and, above them, cliffs higher and steeper than the ones on which we stand. Behind us, before she heads into the place called Cliff House, Birdie explains that this used to be the site of a popular old-fashioned bathhouse that burned down long ago—we’re looking at the ruins of its largest pool. It’s strange and beautiful. I see small figures pacing the rock wall. One turns in our direction and stops, waving up at us. Winnie waves back, then turns to me, a shy smile playing across her features. She looks so much like my mother at this moment, I could cry.
    â€œHey, little sis—want to meet my boyfriend?”

Chapter Three
    Winnie leads us along the cliff’s perimeter and down a sloping, sandy path overgrown with wildflowers. The man who waved makes his way to us, pausing periodically to consult in murmurs with one of the shadowy figures.
    â€œOh, baby,” Harp mutters when we can see his face. He’s extremely good-looking—tall, graceful, golden-skinned, with dark eyes and black hair cropped close to his head, a disarming smattering of freckles across his nose.
    â€œVivian, Harp,” Winnie says, once he’s reached us. “This is Diego, Amanda’s second-in-command. Diego, this is Vivian Apple—Mara’s daughter—and Harp.”
    Diego steps forward and stares at me for an uncomfortable moment. “Yeah, I see it. You guys have the same eyes, pretty much. You probably think they’re brown, right?”
    â€œUh . . . yes?”
    â€œSo does your sister. They’re actually a gorgeous green. Hints of brown, sure, but definitely green. I don’t know why either of you insists on calling them brown—false modesty? Genuine stupidity? And
you’re
trying to hide them beneath your hair.” Diego glances at the bangs falling into my eyes, and, flustered, I push them back.
    â€œOh, for God’s sake, D.,” mutters Winnie, but I see her mouth twitch.
    â€œI’m sorry you’re colorblind, Win,” he says, moving to sling an arm across her shoulders. “I’m sorry you’ll never be able to fly a plane, which I know is your lifelong dream.”
    Winnie laughs. They’re so easy and happy together; they’re good-looking and dangerous and impressively grown-up. Just being near them makes me feel so alone. I want Peter. I want to know where he is; I want him here. I want to stop the awful loop of possibilities that has played in my brain all day: Peter running scared through the wilds of Point Reyes; Peter beaten and bloody, the Three Angels closing in; Peter dead.
    I have to distract myself. I nod at Diego and ask Winnie, “Does Mom know about him?”
    She looks amused. “No, Mara doesn’t know I’m in a relationship with a man planning a violent coup against the Church of America. Somehow, it hasn’t come up. Sorry, love.” Winnie turns to Diego, affecting a pitying look. “The fact is, I’m ashamed of you.”
    Diego smiles. “I’ve never been good with parents.”
    â€œIn fact,” Winnie continues, glancing back at me, “Mara knows nothing about my involvement with this. As far as she’s concerned, I’m only a saintly social worker, finding suitable homes for the poor left-behind babies. Which, in a way, I am! But what she doesn’t realize is that I’m finding the kids secular homes, where they’ll be safe from the Church. I doubt Mara would be
thrilled
if she knew, so next time you see her, please don’t mention it.”
    I feel something constrict inside me. “Yeah, I don’t think that will be an issue.”
    â€œNo?”
    I don’t want to talk about it, but Harp explains. “When we saw ourselves on the feed, we went to your apartment. But