Drake Sisters 05 - Safe Harbor

official—the sheriff—it probably wasn't the best or most appropriate idea.
    "I guess we should be worried about bird flu, although maybe if they all get it, everyone would have a little peace for a while."
    "Elle will have that covered," Hannah said. "Let them vent. It's so much safer with pranks."
    He turned to face her, studying her face hidden so carefully inside the blanket. "Like the hat trick you were always pulling. What did you want to do instead of robbing me of my hats?"
    She shrugged. "I have a terrible temper, Jonas. Most of us do. Not Libby, of course, you'd have to be really awful to get her riled, but it's just safer to do funny or harmless things than vent with anger."
    "So you were really angry with me," he persisted.
    "Sometimes."
    "What did you throw at the mirror?"
    A knock at the door had him frowning and her sighing.
    "Hannah, it's time for you to rest." Libby stuck her head in the room, eyes suspicious as she looked at Jonas. "You don't want to overtire her."
    Hannah couldn't help glancing at the floor to see if the remains of the mirror were picked up. Not only had the glass disappeared, but Jonas had taken apart the frame and stowed it out of sight. She flashed him a grateful smile. "I'm just sitting here, Libby."
    "Well, you can't overdo, hon. You should still be in the hospital." Libby made several gestures toward Jonas, trying to hint to him to leave.
    He crossed his arms over his chest and leveled a look at her. "I'll make certain she doesn't overdo it," he assured.
    Libby scowled at him. "Visitors tire her out, Jonas."
    "Fortunately, I'm not a visitor," he returned smoothly, "I'm family."
    Libby glanced at her watch. "I really think she needs to lie down and take a nap."
    Jonas's eyebrow rose. "Really? What do you think, Hannah?"

    It was an opportunity to get rid of him. On the other hand, Hannah was tired of being treated like a child and he was asking her opinion instead of making it for her. She was sick of everyone making her decisions.
    "I'm not tired, Libby. When I am, I'll send Jonas away."
    "Are you sure?"
    Hannah nodded, afraid to trust her voice. It was husky enough and she was suddenly close to tears. She had a vision of her sisters gathering downstairs. Poor Hannah, we have to come up with a future for her . Sometimes she thought she heard the house whisper it. She turned her face away and closed her eyes, sorrow tearing through her.
    Were there stages she needed to go through as a victim? Because right now, all she wanted to do was cry. She felt confused and apprehensive and wanted to be alone—
    although she would be terrified if no one else was in the house with her.
    Libby hesitated, shot Jonas a warning glare and then went out, closing the door behind her. At once the whispers started up again.
    "I tried, but he wouldn't leave," Libby said.
    "She wasn't in tears, was she?"
    That was Kate and the anxiety in her voice made Hannah wince. She glanced up at Jonas with a small moue and a slight shrug. "They think I can't cope."
    "Show them you can."
    Hannah sighed. "You see everything in black and white, Jonas."
    He rested his hip on the railing. "Does that mean you can't cope? It's no big deal, Hannah. It was a vicious crime, it's natural to have to have recovery time."
    She held up her hand. "I don't want to talk about it yet."
    "Well, at least come over here and wave at Joley and Elle before they go ballistic on us. Joley's flapping her arms like a bird. Do you think she believes she can fly?"
    Hannah peered over the railing. Her sisters were gesturing wildly, Joley doing exaggerated sign language and Elle writing in the sand. "What in the world are they doing now?"
    "Trying to tell you something, obviously. Why doesn't Elle just use telepathy like a normal Drake?"
    "Because I asked them all to stay out of my head. I don't want to risk catching their emotions or have them feeling mine."
    "You talked to me."

    "I was desperate. I didn't want them to see the broken mirror." She leaned over the balcony railing so far he wrapped his arm around her, blanket and all. "What is Elle writing?"
    Far below on the beach, Elle was dragging a piece of driftwood through the wet sand, making three-foot-tall letters.
    "That's an 'R' and a 'U,'" Jonas translated. "And why didn't you want your sisters to see the mirror?"
    "It's getting difficult to be around them, Jonas. They… reek … of sympathy.
    Sometimes I think I'm drowning in it."
    "Of course they're sympathetic, Hannah. They