Whispers Read Online Free PDF Page A

North’s mom found his stash—right in a fake mailbox in his bedroom. Marijuana and hash and—”
    Claire’s gaze fell on Sean, her worst suspicions confirmed. She could barely breathe. Her fingers curled around the strap of a second purse. “Is this true?”
    â€œIt was a setup.”
    â€œA setup. By whom?”
    A beat. Just a moment of condemning hesitation. “His older brother,” Sean lied. “Max hid his stuff in Benjie’s room to fake out his parents. Benjie’s clean. I swear.” He shot his sister a look that could cut through steel.
    â€œMax is only seventeen.”
    â€œYou can do dope at any age, Mom.”
    â€œI know.” She let go of her death grip on the purse’s handle. “That’s what worries me.”
    â€œWorries you?”
    â€œWhat about you, Sean?”
    â€œI’ve never done anything!” Defiance sparked in his eyes.
    Samantha started to open her mouth, thought better of it, and sealed her lips.
    Sean swallowed hard. “Well just cigarettes and some chew, but you already know about that.”
    â€œSean—”
    â€œHe’s telling the truth,” Samantha said, her gaze meeting her brother’s, a secret hanging between them. With a chilling start, Claire was reminded of the secrets she’d shared with her sisters.
    â€œHow would you know?” Claire asked her daughter.
    â€œI go through his room.”
    â€œYou what?” Sean whispered in quiet fury.
    Samantha lifted a shoulder. “All he’s got is some condoms, a couple of Playboy s, and a lighter.”
    â€œYou sneaking little creep!” Fists clenched in frustration, he crossed the room and loomed over her. “You had no right to go through my things! You stay out of my room, or I’ll read that damned diary you think is so secret.”
    â€œDon’t you ever—”
    â€œStop it!” Claire ordered, realizing they were getting nowhere. “Enough! Both of you—stay out of each other’s things.” Then, to lighten the mood, she added, “That’s my job. If there’s any snooping, I’ll be the one to go through drawers and closets and secret hiding places—”
    â€œOh, sure,” Sean mocked.
    â€œTry me.”
    Yanking the rubber band from her ponytail, Samantha checked her face in the mirror and scowled at a pimple as she shook out her hair. “Well, I’m glad we’re moving. I’m sick of everyone staring at me and saying all those lies about Dad.”
    Give me strength! Crossing her arms under her chest, Claire leaned a hip against the bureau for support. “What lies?”
    â€œCandi Whittaker says that Dad is some kind of weirdo, that he did something nasty with Jessica Stewart, but I told them they were wrong; that Jessica used to be Sean’s girlfriend.”
    Sean groaned and turned his back on his sister.
    â€œAnd what did Candi say to that?” Claire hardly dared ask.
    â€œShe laughed—a real creepy laugh, it gave me the willies—and then she told Tammy Dawson that I was in a classic case of denial and that she should know because her father’s a psychiatrist.” Samantha’s gaze was troubled, but she lifted her chin, refusing to be beat down by what she assumed were lies about her father. “It’s not true, is it?” Her voice was suddenly so small, her fingers lacing and unlacing in worry. “Daddy didn’t do something awful with Jessica, did he? That isn’t why you left him?”
    Claire’s heart sank. Biting her lip, she fought an onslaught of fresh, hot tears and took Samantha into her arms. Sick inside, she admitted the truth. “Daddy and I had lots of problems, you know that.”
    â€œEveryone does. You said so.” Doubt cracked Samantha’s voice. Her blond head, so recently proud, bowed.
    â€œThat’s true, honey. Everyone does.