Whispering Hearts Read Online Free PDF

where she would be. Why did her mother even care?
    Wait—she didn’t care. She was a merciless, vengeful woman. Rachel’s cheeks tingled as she understood her mother’s plan.
    Either get Garrett to say where he was taking Rachel, letting the spirits in the house overhear and seek her out to torment, or even better, watch Rachel slip up and mention the voices in front of him.
    It didn’t matter that her mother knew they were real from first-hand experience. Rachel had inherited her ability from her mother—not that the woman would ever let anyone know she was psychic. Without the moonstone earrings she always wore that somehow blocked the voices, her mother would hear the ghosts too.
    No, she didn’t want to know where Rachel would be. Her mother wanted to punish Rachel for leaving—like she’d punished Rachel for befriending spirits as a child.
    Rachel’s rage became a living thing inside her demanding release. Thoughts and feelings she had stifled for days, weeks, her entire life pressed against her lips. For one brief moment she wanted to know what it felt like to be free.
    She stepped in front of Garrett, walking right up to her mother. She had never noticed how small the woman was.
    â€œThat’s the first time you even admitted that I was abducted,” Rachel said.
    She dropped her purse and the bottle of saltwater so she could pull the sweatbands off of her wrists.
    â€œI’m done. I’m done being a marketing prop. You want a picture?” She threw down the wristbands and held up her arms, revealing the shining red and white scars Michael had left behind. “Take one now!”
    Her mother’s mouth dropped open, but nothing came out. Rachel would remember that sight for the rest of her life. She felt a thrill of victory. Lillian Montgomery, speechless.
    â€œThat’s why…” Garrett’s voice was almost a whisper, so soft Rachel thought at first it might be one of them .
    â€œThat’s why she had you wearing the tennis outfit,” he said. “To match the wristbands. So no one would see and ask questions—no one would know what happened to you.”
    â€œIt doesn’t matter.” Rachel bent down to pick up her things. “We’re leaving.”
    â€œIt does matter!” Garrett stepped toward Rachel’s mom, glaring balefully. “What the hell is wrong with you?”
    She knew Garrett had seen through Lillian’s act the first time the two spoke. It was one of the things Rachel loved about him. Her mother had never been able to fool him.
    Rachel had been watching him all night at the fundraiser, unable to pull her eyes away. She’d caught the look of revulsion on his face as he walked away from his exchange with her mother. Their gazes had locked across the room.
    He’d looked nervous, but Rachel smiled and rolled her eyes at him, then shrugged. His smile had been hesitant—the first one he’d directed at her. Butterflies had swarmed up from her stomach, words sticking in her throat.
    She had left early to avoid talking to him.
    Rachel put her free hand against his chest. Her voice was shaking. “Garrett, please.”
    â€œWhere are you going, Rachel?” a voice said. Another whispered, “Where are you going?”
    Rachel’s heart lurched at the sound—at the low, even tone of the women’s voices—vaguely familiar. Three people in the hallway. Five voices.
    Garrett looked stricken as he gazed down at her. Rachel struggled to appear at least a little bit calm.
    â€œShe’s your mother,” he said.
    Rachel cast one last glance over her shoulder at the woman who had given her life and then proceeded to make it a living hell.
    â€œNot anymore.”
    Lillian stiffened her spine, getting ready to light into them again. “I will not be spoken to in such a disrespectful manner in my house!”
    Garrett opened the door and tugged Rachel’s hand.