NINETY-THREE
“I can’t help you, Aunt Paulette,” Monica said. “She won’t speak to me.”
“She can’t allow that boy to sleep in her house! I don’t trust him! He’s a devil-child! I think he’s Emil come back to life!”
Monica poured herself another glass of wine. It was her third in the last half hour. At this rate, she’d have the whole bottle empty soon, and she was absolutely fine with that. The wine made the nights easier to get through.
“You sound like a crazy old woman,” she told her aunt, her words slurring slightly. “I’ve never believed in all your hocus pocus about visions and ghosts. Devil-child! Emil come back to life! Don’t make me laugh!”
“It’s true, Monica. You must believe me! Jessie’s not herself. That child has cast some kind of spell over her.”
“Maybe that explains why she’s being such a bitch,” Monica said, sipping the wine. “She keeps saying I owe her an apology, when it’s because of her that my husband has left me. . . .”
“Monica, please! Let that go for now. Your sister is in danger! She needs our help!”
Monica gestured at her aunt with the wineglass. “Did you know that Todd is living right down the street? He’s staying with Mr. Thayer. I saw him. But he won’t speak to me. I’ve left hundreds of messages. I even went down there. He’s put poor Mr. Thayer in a dreadful position. Mr. Thayer was very sympathetic to me when I went down there.” She frowned at Aunt Paulette. “It was a nice change to find someone sympathetic to me for a change.”
“Monica, please . . .”
“But even though Mr. Thayer tried to get Todd to talk with me, he refused. I just don’t know what to do anymore, Aunt Paulette.”
She chugged back the wine.
“Monica, we need to help Jessie. . . .”
“Jessie can go to hell!” Monica shrieked, and tossed the wineglass across the room. It shattered against the marble floor.