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Heavenstone 01 - The Heavenstone Secrets

Heavenstone 01 - The Heavenstone Secrets

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this from your mother for now. I agree with her that, for now, the two of you should not come to the hospital.”
    He smiled.
    “I know what you did you did because of how badly you feel for us. Sometimes I want to explode, just start shouting at anyone for anything. We were so close, so close, but we have to swallow and absorb our defeats and disappointments and go on. Next time something like this happens, you’ll have to count to ten before you react.”
    “I will, Daddy.”
    “I’m sure you will,” he said, coming around the desk to embrace me. He kissed my forehead and brushed back my hair the way Mother always did. “Well, I’m starving, and I did smell the aroma of the meal Cassie’s prepared. Let’s go eat.”
    I nodded. His embrace restored me. We started out.
    “And I must say,” he continued as we walked down the hall to the dining room, “your suggestion about the nursery was quite smart and thoughtful.”
    I stopped. “My suggestion?”
    “About the lock. I was thinking about that,about your mother going in there constantly and crying. It never occurred to me to do something that simple. You girls are definitely Heavenstones through and through.”
    Later, after he left for the hospital, I asked Cassie why she had told him the changing of the lock on the nursery was my idea. She smiled and shook her head.
    “My dear little sister, don’t you ever get it? What better time to give you credit for a good idea than when you are at fault for something? It helped bring him to see the goodness in you and therefore want to defend you and forgive you even more.”
    “Oh. I never would have thought such a thing,” I said, more to myself than to her, because I was thinking that it was dishonest, a manipulation. It actually made me feel even dirtier, like some sly, conniving child.
    “Of course, you wouldn’t. That’s why you have me,” she said. “Someday, you’ll do something for me in my time of need. Won’t you? Well?”
    “Sure, Cassie.”
    “Good,” she said.
    We heard the phone ringing and knew from the number of rings that it was my line.
    “So it begins … the gossip. Go on, have fun with your little friends. Tell them you don’t regret anything and that you’d do it again. They’ll be shocked at your courage and respect and fear you more. Go on,” she urged.
    As usual, Cassie was right. Everyone in my class wanted to know what had happened to me and what was going to happen now. The first call came fromRachel David, who sat in the row across from mine in homeroom and had witnessed the whole episode. She told me that I was the big topic of discussion at lunch and that even Kent was impressed.
    “He said you have more guts and grit than he thought. It sounded like he regretted dumping you,” she added.
    “Dumping me? Boys always try to get you to believe they did the dumping, but I dumped him at the party,” I said, and she laughed. To my surprise, she told me she would call me tomorrow night, too, and report what was said.
    “No one really likes Roxanne Peters. She’s a real backstabber. Too bad you only bruised her arm and didn’t break it.”
    I laughed to myself. Cassie was so perceptive. She had predicted just how my classmates would think and act. In their minds, I was suddenly someone heroic. I liked Cassie’s idea about finding something good in the bad things that happened. I went to sleep that night actually feeling a bit proud of myself and wondering why I had ever shed a tear.
    And it was all because of Cassie. If she had ever loomed tall and impressive to me before, she was even greater in my eyes now. And suddenly, maybe for the first time, really, I began to see myself as a true Heavenstone.
    She stopped by to say good night. For a moment, when I saw her in the doorway, I thought I was looking at Mother. When she came in, I realized why. She was wearing one of Mother’s nightgowns. I recognized it immediately.

    And she spoke in Mother’s soft, loving tone of voice. “How are you, Semantha?”
    “All right,” I said, puzzled and even a bit frightened by this sudden change in her.
    She came to my bedside and sat with her back to me but turning slightly, just the way Mother always did. Then she reached out and brushed back my hair, and she smiled, not a Cassie smile mask or a smile of skepticism and distrust but a Mother smile, loving, concerned.
    I was still holding my breath. This was more like a dream.
    “You’ve had one terrible, terrible day.

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