Alice ate supper alone, Rose already gone by the time she went downstairs again, Betty locked in her office. But Alice didn't mind. She felt content, calm, in balance. The happiest she'd ever felt.
Sleep came easily, peacefully, pulling her down into a quiet and refreshing darkness. When she woke the next morning, it was to a bundle of fresh energy and eagerness to meet the day.
A glance at her cheek in the mirror told her she'd been mistaken about Aunt Christine's claw marks. Her face was untouched. As a matter of fact, the hand full of red blemishes she'd tried to cover with concealer yesterday had vanished completely. Her dose of mascara went on flawlessly, thickening her lashes so much Alice fluttered them a few times just to admire them.
She found a dark brown wrap-dress she'd worn last summer in Denver for her one and only date. A disaster, the guy a total jerk who only wanted to take her out so Evan would like him. What a mistake he'd made. But the dress... Alice remembered liking the dress. And even more so this morning. It fit her nicely, accenting her shape. A cute pair of sandals made a great pairing, as did a thin, gold chain she dug out of her dented jewelry box. The tiny cross hanging from it had been a gift from Betty, ages ago. Alice never wore it.
Until today.
Smiling and humming the soft melody of the protection poem's song to herself, Alice swept down stairs, her backpack traded for a deep pink book bag she'd forgotten she owned. The voodoo doll she left upstairs, tucked under her pillow where she'd slid it last night. Alice didn't feel the need to carry it around with her anymore.
She'd kill Evan if he touched it again.
The thought jerked her to a halt, the threat waking her a moment before she grinned to herself. That's right. She'd sic the doll on him, wouldn't she? Not that it had done anything to Mrs. Talbot, really. But it felt so good to vent her frustration, she knew the pins would come out if he bothered her again.
Alice wouldn't hesitate to name him next time, and imagine her revenge.
Betty looked up from her coffee and the morning paper with wide eyes and pale cheeks. Alice ignored her mother, laying her bag aside, smiling at Rose who set a full plate in front of her. Even Evan gaped, spoon halfway to his mouth.
“You look lovely.” Betty set down her cup. “I love that dress on you.”
Alice took a sip of juice. “Thanks.” Her eyes lifted, met Evan's. He tried to scowl, to bully her with his frown, just like always. But Alice stared him down. To her delight, he was the one to look away, gaze troubled.
If she'd known she would feel this incredible after jabbing a silly pin into the doll, she would have done it the first day.
“Alice.” Betty paused, glanced at Evan. “I'm sorry about yesterday.”
Alice met her mother's eyes. Waited.
“Your Aunt Christine had no right to hit you.” Betty's eyes fell to Alice's cheek.
“Whatever.” Evan's favorite word tasted good in her mouth.
Betty flinched, Alice's rejection clear from the hurt on her mother's face. “We need to talk. After school.”
Alice shrugged, taking two bites of her scrambled eggs, but ignoring the rest of her food. She didn't feel like eating.
Perfect.
As Alice stepped out the front door, drawing a deep breath of the humid, flower scented air, she stopped, some of her happiness oozing out of her at the sight of an ambulance parked outside of Mrs. Talbot's house. Alice slowly walked to her gate and down the sidewalk, pausing to watch as two EMTs emerged with a stretcher between them.
Mrs. Talbot tossed and turned on it, moaning, drooling.
Alice jumped at the touch of Betty's hand on her shoulder. “Terrible, isn't it?” Betty tsked softly under her breath. “I already talked to Mrs. Watts across the street. Mrs. Talbot collapsed. They only found her because someone heard the dog barking and went to see what was wrong.”
For the briefest instant, a bubble of hate popped inside Alice's soul. Yes!
Followed by so much guilt she leaned back against her mother. This had to be a coincidence. She had nothing to do with the nasty old woman's illness.
Besides, that secret part of her whispered. She deserved it.
Alice tried to put it from her mind. It was easy enough to do when she left her mother behind to go to school. Everyone stared, in a good way, finally. Even Peter, who she smiled at happily. Yes, she could have joined some clique or another, that much was clear from the smiles and greetings suddenly aimed her way. But she didn't want anything to do with any of them. Not after how they'd treated her. Peter was the only one who'd been her friend, even when she hadn't been his.
And they'd all pay. Oh, yes they would.
It wasn't until school was almost over Alice felt something poke her, deep inside. Mrs. Talbot's face swam in her mind, her hate for the woman, the surge of energy she felt.
And the pin.
Still in the doll.
Deep in its stomach.
Alice stumbled on her way out of class as the possibility struck her. Was she responsible after all? Instead of dread or guilt, she pushed down a rush of excitement.
There was only one way to find out.
She had to test it.
Just as the thought passed her mind, Alice felt something impact her shoulder and spun sideways. One of Claire's little friends had slammed into her, smiling evilly as she passed.
“Sorry,” Kourtney said with a fake frown as her two companions giggled.
Fire burned in Alice, the need to act.
The perfect test. The perfect target.
Alice hurried for the front door. She had to go home and get her doll.
Peter stopped her as she rushed down the steps, reaching out to grab her hand. Alice looked up with a flash of fury, fading instantly as he flinched back from her.
“Sorry,” he said. “Are you okay?”
Alice nodded, feeling a skim of sweat form on her skin. She'd been so focused, so intent, she hadn't even seen him there. Alice hugged herself as the moisture on her body turned cold despite the humid afternoon.
“Can I walk you home?” Peter offered his arm, very gallant.
Alice laughed and hooked hers through his, her urgency gone. “Why, thank you.”
They walked in happy silence, while Alice thought ahead to the doll. She'd have to find a way to test it where she could witness it, but where no one would guess what she was up to.
If it really worked. Alice felt a rumble of doubt even as Peter spoke up.
“Did you hear about Mrs. Talbot?” Alice tripped, only catching herself thanks to her grip on Peter.
“What about her?” She kept her gaze straight ahead, hanging on his every word as much as his arm.
“She's still really sick,” he said. “Mom called me.” Peter rolled his eyes. “She likes to gossip.” Which, apparently, he did, too. “They think she might die.”
Joy surged, replaced by fear. It was her. It was. She did it.
The pin was still in the doll.
Alice left Peter at his gate with a quick wave and ran the rest of the way home despite his unspoken desire, clear on his face, to spend more time with together. Her sandals slid on her feet so badly she stopped to slip them off, racing barefoot down the sidewalk and up to the front of her house.
The door thudded shut behind her as Alice flew across the foyer, ignoring the sound of Betty calling her name, taking the stairs two at a time. She locked her bedroom door, panting, leaning back against the wood, eyes locked on her pillow.
Swallowing hard, hope and fear and guilt all at war inside her, Alice approached the bed, lifting her pillow, exposing the doll.
It looked the same as ever. Except for the pearl-head peeking out of its stomach.
Alice lifted it into her hand, fingers finding the smooth top. She pulled, feeling resistance. The pin didn't want to come out. She finally twisted it, breaking whatever seal held it in place and eased it out of the doll's body.
The surge of energy she'd felt the night before rippled over her again, sinking inside her, settling, quiet and happy. Alice hugged the doll to her chest.
“I have to know,” Alice whispered to it. “If it was you and me. For sure.”
The doll's button eyes shone in invitation.
***
It will show her. Prove to her.
And when she finally sees their potential, they will be unstoppable.
***