Shattered Girls (Broken Dolls Book 2) (4 page)

“That’s probably what she said to make the man feel better.” She daintily covers her mouth when she laughs. I love it when she laughs.

“I doubt it,” I say. “TV is always right.”

She stops laughing and comes to an abrupt halt on our lawn, gaping at the front door.

“Why is our door open?” I ask.

“I don’t know.”

“Why are all the lights turned off?”

“I don’t know.”

“Why aren’t we going in?”

Gabby swallows. “Because I’m scared of what we’ll find.”

I climb onto Gabby’s head to get a better view. “Want me to investigate?”

“No.” She takes a moment to breathe. “We go in together.”

I take hold of her hair like reins, keeping my voice low. “I’m with you.”

She doesn’t move. If I was watching this on TV, I’d guess the scene was paused.

“I think I’m stuck in a dream.” Gabby’s voice is high and tight. “The lawn is miles long, Ella. Nothing makes sense, it’s… it’s all in slow-motion. It’s like I’m a doll again.”

“It’s your anxiety.” I calmly stroke her braid. I can’t feel how soft it must be, but at least she can feel me. “Maybe we should call the police?”

“No.” She inhales but not exhales. She crosses the lawn and stands in the doorway, staring into darkness.

“Breathe, Gabby,” I remind. “Breathe for both of us.”

Gabby nods and steps inside, the floorboards creaking beneath her. I always liked how Gabby’s parents kept the traditional feel to the house with polished flooring and high ceilings.

“I don’t like the feel of this,” Gabby whispers.

“Me neither. Let me go and investigate.”

“No. It might be dangerous.”

“Safer than you going, Gabby. I’m easier to fix.”

“So you think you’re gonna get broken?”

“I’ll be careful. Put me down, and I’ll be good. Doll’s honor!”

I can almost feel the relief through her shoulders. She collects me gently in two hands and lowers me to the floor.

“Be careful, Ella. Anything untoward and you run. Got it?”

“Got it.”

I climb the stairs one by one, pulling myself into a handstand as I do so. It takes a while to reach the top, and even longer to peer around the corners to check the main bedroom and bathroom. The wind howls, but the rooms are clear.

I slide down the skirting, my tutu covering my face, and sneak through the hall, poking my head around each corner before entering the next room.

No one is in the living room, or the bedrooms, just the curtains floating delicately in the breeze.

“Gabby?” I call. She enters, eyes wide.

“Why are the windows open?” She twirls her hoodie’s cords.

I shrug. “Don’t know. Maybe your parents wanted fresh air?”

“Their cars are still in the driveway.” Her voice trembles. “Why would they leave everything wide open like this if everything was okay?”

The house pipes suddenly clank when the dishwasher switches on. Gabby clutches at her heart and utters an obscenity.

“Have you checked the kitchen?” she whispers on an exhaled breath.

I shake my head. Gabby pushes past me, the kitchen door swinging fro. I follow suit, unsettled by the all the knives sprawled across the countertop. One of the chairs has been knocked over, along with a bowl of fruit and a vanilla cake with “
HAPPY BIRTHDAY GABBY
” in blue frosting.

“Oh no,” I mumble, kicking at a bruised grape as I race towards the back door, my eyes clicking with each blink.

“What?” Gabby asks.

I shake my head, then poke it through the cat flap to check the backyard for intruders.

“Jupiter?” I press my lips together to make a kissing sound. “Jupes?”

When the inky cat doesn’t come, I drag myself back to Gabby.

“The cat’s gone,” I say quietly while she inspects one of the knives.

“Cats don’t always come when you call them,” she says, but it doesn’t sound like she’s listening. She inspects a banana, which is peeled and squished. “Someone’s taken my parents.”

“And your cat,” I remind, running back towards the flap to double-check. “Come on, Jupes!”

“We have to go, Ella.” Gabby bends over to pick me up and place me on her head. “We’re leaving.”

“Where to?” I ask, devastated to leave Jupes behind. I used to be scared of cats, but I’ve grown somewhat obsessed.

“Aunt Sianne’s.”

If I could gulp, I would. “But she’s mental! Can’t we go to your friend’s house?”

“This is a family matter.” Gabby throws over her shoulder as she tears down the hallway like a whirlwind. She goes into her room and pulls out random items of clothing, shoving them into her backpack. “Could you get my toothbrush, please?”

I jump from her head, the forced landing enough to make my ankles squeak, but not enough to break, and hurry into the bathroom across the hall. With ease born of habit, I climb the sink on the rope ladder Gabby made me, then stumble on the drawers.

Her toothbrush is about the same height as me, so it’s awkward to carry out. When I return, Gabby’s staring at a photograph of the four of us at the Great Barrier Reef. I remember she spent weeks sewing a scuba suit for me, just so I felt included.

“Are you ready?”

Gabby flinches when I speak, pulling her gaze away from the photo. “Yeah.” She grabs the toothbrush and picks me up, her actions a lot swifter and rougher than usual. “You find anything in there?”

I pause. “No. The bathroom was just like normal.” I’m no good at lying, but Gabby is too flustered to notice. I don’t know why I didn’t tell her. Maybe, because her dad is a medical scientist, just like the professor, so the whole thought of intruders stealing meds just seems like an unnecessary stress.

Before Gabby leaves what was once our home, she puts out two big bowls of cat food and water, ‘just in case’.

Gabby doesn’t shut the front door behind us. I guess she’s not ready to close the chapter on Jupes and her parents just yet.

abby wheezes as we loiter on Sianne’s porch. She sounds like an asthmatic, but I’ve never seen her with an inhaler.

I can’t see her face in the darkness, only her silhouette which sways as she bites her nails. Sianne is always too wrapped up in her experiments to replace the lightbulbs in her house, so that would explain why no lights are on. Her house used to belong to the professor, but when he moved out, she took permanent residence.

The door unlatches, and creaks open just enough for Sianne’s dark eyes to peer through the gap.

“They’ve come, haven’t they?” her voice is raspy, like she hasn’t spoken in days. She swings the door wide open, revealing her tattered lab coat and wild red hair. It was purple only weeks ago, so she’s either dyed it or an experiment blew up in her face again.

Gabby instinctively rushes towards Sianne for a hug, but she pushes her away.

“Infected! Infected!”

“What?” Gabby sniffs. “Aunt Sianne, you of all people! I’ve been cured for
years
! They eradicated the epidemic. Not that it was
that
much of an epidemic anyway… stupid media…”

Sianne widens one eye and squints the other. “So they say. They say lots of things, when really, nobody knows nothing.”

“Please let us in,” I say, terminally and permanently bored of Sianne’s suspicions and muddled accent. “Pam and Jason have gone missing. We have nowhere to go.”

“Kidnapped more like, yes.” Sianne pauses. “Jason was on the verge of a medical breakthrough, independently, of course. His old company wouldn’t have liked that. He’s probably dead, dead, lost his head.” She crams her fist into her mouth and smiles.

At least, she retains enough decency to motion for us to follow her inside. Rather than using a torch to navigate through the dark, she carries a lantern, probably bought on eBay.

Other than that, nothing much has changed since we lived here. The walls are still part floral, part mauve and the furniture hasn’t altered from its post-1970’s shabby chic. Only now, it’s even more genuinely shabby.

“Have you eaten?” Sianne drags out the dining chairs across from the kitchen. Her slippers slide on the tiles like ice when she pulls out three bowls and cereal.

“No.”

“I don’t need to eat, remember, Sianne?” I arrange myself on the grubby placemat that hasn’t seen water and rag for God knows how long.

“Nonsense!” She spills the milk over the counter, pouring the entire carton into one bowl. “Ella, you must eat! You’re skin and bones! A girl your age should not be that small!”

“I’m a doll.”

“You’re succumbing to peer pressure.” She plops the bowl in front of me; it’s big enough for me to swim in.

My eyebrow squeaks when it raises. I glance at Gabby, who reluctantly nibbles on her cereal, staring into space.

I slump my shoulders and decide to amuse Sianne. I pick up one of the cereal grains and pretend to bite into it, the way parents do with plastic food to appease their children. “Mmm!”

“Wonderful!” Sianne grins, taking a seat next to Gabby. She sticks one finger in her ear and shakes it around. “So to what do I owe the pleasure? It’s not like you interrupted me. Not like I was doing anything important. Not like I was working on bringing the dead back to life. No, not at all. Who couldn’t love family who visits unannounced, eats my food, takes up my spare time, and who will, no doubt, use up all of the hot water?”

“Sianne, stop. You know we’re here because Jason and Pam are missing. You need to call the professor for us. The number Gabby has in her cell was disconnected.” I anxiously tap the bowl. “We haven’t seen him for years, and he needs to know what happened to his son. He’s buddy-buddy with big-deal corporations now, I’m sure he could hire the best detectives. Or something.”

I peek at Gabby from the corner of my eye, but she remains expressionless.

“Missing? Well, why didn’t you say! Oookay! Mind you, I haven’t used the telephone for a while! Still, I’m sure Daniel would love to speak with his granddaughter and her height-impaired, anorexic friend.”

I refrain from rolling my eyes only because Sianne hurries to the phone and dials a number. She puts it on loudspeaker and sits it in the center of the table. Clasping her hands together, she leans in, a perpetual smile on her face.

It rings three times.

And another three.

And three more.

“Isn’t the anticipation thrilling?” Sianne warbles, moving her hands around like a magician.

“Not really,” I grumble, losing all hope of the professor answering.

“Granted, it would be awkward if I dialed the wrong number…”

There’s a crackle on the other end, followed by a few thumps. Someone breathes heavily.

“Hello?” they answer.

Gabby frowns. “Grandpa? Is that you?”

The voice takes a while to respond. “Gabby! My dear, how’ve you been?”

I mimic Gabby’s frown and walk closer to the phone. “Are you sick?”

“Ella, is that you?” Is it the connection, or is his voice higher than usual? “Not sick, my dear, just overworked! Are you well?”

“No.” And just like that, I’ve begun to stage-whisper. “Jason and Pam have gone missing. Gabby and I are at Sianne’s. We don’t know what to do.”

“Have you called the police?”

“Not yet, but we’ll call Devin’s dad directly. He’s the best cop in town.”