Page 108 of Heidi Lucy Loses Her Mind
She’s nervous. Good. I was half-wondering if she would forever be barging forward without fear. Knowing that she understands how risky this is helps me feel better.
Still, when she finally knocks on the door, she does it with confidence. The sound seems to echo throughout the empty street, but she stands tall, not fidgeting, not shirking.
Phil opens the door after about a minute.
“Hi,” Heidi says, her voice gentle. “Um, how are you all doing?”
It’s an unnecessary question, because Phil looks horrible. He’s clearly not doing well. There are dark circles under his eyes, his skin is pale, and there’s a stain on the collar of his wrinkled dress shirt. He looks like a man who’s been wearing the same clothes for a week and who hasn’t showered in just as long.
I take a step closer to Heidi from behind, my body pressed against her back, and I’m not even trying not to look like the bouncer at some big city nightclub. I don’t know all the details of what Phil and Elsie have been getting up to, but I don’t want them to think for even a minute that they can harm Heidi.
Phil grunts his greeting rather than saying anything; he shoots a look behind him and then looks back to us. “It’s not really a good time,” he says shortly. “You should probably go.”
He looks…nervous. Scared, even. It’s in the darting of his eyes and the almost compulsive twitch of his head as he keeps checking over his shoulder.
And I wonder, then, how much Phil really had to do with his mother’s death.
If he knew anything about it at all—or if it was all Elsie.
“Absolutely,” Heidi says, her voice sympathetic. “I’m so sorry to barge in. I really just was wondering if you’d found an earring, by chance—I lost one, a little gold stud, and I’ve searched everywhere. I first noticed it missing the evening after we were here last time. Have you found anything like that in your mother’s room?”
Phil’s eyes narrow slightly, his gaze darting over Heidi’s face as though he’s searching for lies.
“Here,” she says after a second of silence. She reaches into her pocket and pulls out a little gold earring. “It looks like this.”
This seems to reassure Phil; his shoulders slump, and his expression clears.
“I haven’t seen anything like that,” he says, shooting another glance over his shoulder, “but I haven’t been in my mother’s room since you were here last. It’s a bit uncomfortable for me to go in there, you know.”
“Of course,” Heidi says. “I understand completely.” She oozes sincerity and innocence, and I can tell she’s going out of her way to hide that she’s suspicious of Phil and Elsie. She wants him to think she’s clueless about what really happened. And, to be fair, we don’t have any concrete proof that it was Phil—or Elsie. “If it would be easier for you, we could come up and try to find it. I wouldn’t bother, you know, except that my father gave me these before he passed. I’d like to find the other one if I can.”
I glance down at her, startled. But she doesn’t look at me, doesn’t give any indication about whether those earrings are actually from her dad.
Phil darts a glance over his shoulder once more and then mutters, “Just…hurry.”
Heidi nods, and Phil steps aside, ushering us in. We bustle our way up the stairs as quickly and quietly as possible, and a chill runs down my spine when I hear the faint sounds of Elsie speaking in the kitchen, I think on a phone call.
Hurry.It’s a flicker of a thought, one that tugs on the dark corners of my mind.We need to hurry.
And then another thought, louder:We shouldn’t be here.
I swallow thickly and keep moving.
Last time we were here, I didn’t pay much attention to the fish tank in the hall; now, though, I look more closely as we pass. The water is cloudy, and there’s a faint smell emanating from it.
I think Carmina was the one who took care of those fish, and now that she’s gone, they’ve been left to die.
Gross. Just…gross. And wrong. So wrong.
I walk faster, resting my hand at the small of Heidi’s back and nudging her to speed up too.
When we reach Carmina’s room at the end of the hallway, the first thing I do is close the door.
The second thing I do is lock it.
“Hurry,” I say to her in a low voice. The word comes out breathless, slightly frantic. “Hurry. Come on.”
The knife in my pocket feels ten times heavier than it is; I’m aware of it with every step I take as I move around the room. We both go to the vanity first, but the locket that once rested on top is no longer there. Heidi begins looking through the handsome wood jewelry box that sits in front of the mirror, and I start opening drawers.
