Blood Wounds Read Free Page A

no way Mrs. Chen was unfamiliar with her. Still, her question surprised me.
    "Locally," I said. "She's had the same teacher for years."
    "I'm sure there are good local voice coaches," Mrs. Chen said. "But I really think you'd be in better hands with one in Philly. I can come up with a few recommendations if you'd like. How about if I talk to your parents about it?"
    Westbridge High may not be a private school, but the kids here are rich. Their parents, like Val, earn hundreds of thousands of dollars, and the kids, like Brooke and Alyssa, take tennis and golf and dressage and music lessons.
    But Jack earns maybe ten percent of that, and Mom doesn't get paid for looking after us. The money I'd earned last summer as an au pair was going to help pay for college.
    I could understand why Mrs. Chen figured if there was money for Brooke's lessons there would be money for mine, but she was wrong, and I certainly didn't want to put Mom in the position of having to explain that.
    "I'll ask my mother," I said, knowing I wouldn't. I'd learned a long time ago not to ask for the things I couldn't have.
    I had never thought about voice lessons before Mrs. Chen suggested them. I should have been happy Mrs. Chen complimented me, excited to have the solo. I was lucky to go to a school with such a great choir.
    I knew all of that, but I'd run to my private space in the basement anyway and cut my right thigh. I'd cut deeper than I'd intended, so it was a relief no one was home to hear when I cried out in pain. The kind of pain I needed to keep me from thinking about all the things I wanted and could never have.
    Five days. My rule was never cut more than once a week, and better still to wait ten days or even two weeks. Last year there'd been a stretch when I'd gone seventeen days without cutting. I hadn't told myself I couldn't. I just hadn't felt the need.
    I felt the need then, though, as I lay on my bed, listening to Alyssa's steady breathing. I felt the need as I thought about my happy family. But it had only been five days.
    I closed my hands into the tightest fists possible, my fingernails pressing into my palms. It wasn't as good as cutting, but it was all I allowed myself.
    That's what I remember from that night. The sweaters, the planning, the laughter, the invitations, the need.

Three
    I WAS THE FIRST ONE home from school. I usually was, since Brooke and Alyssa had so many more activities than I did, and Mom had either her classes or her chauffeuring. Jack wouldn't be back until after supper.
    We keep two charts in the kitchen, one to remind everyone where we all were scheduled to be, and the other to tell us which chores we were expected to do around the house. The chores rotated, so we each had a week of them every month, regardless of other obligations (although we all traded on occasion). It was my week for dusting and vacuuming, and I figured I'd get to that after I'd checked for phone messages and before I began my homework.
    That was what I was thinking about when I picked up the phone to see if there were any messages. Whether I should dust and vacuum before I did my homework or after.
    There were four messages, all in the past two hours.
    That was a lot, but not unheard of. We knew that if there were any last-minute changes in our schedules we were to call home and leave a message. Then whoever got in first could call Mom or Jack and let them know what was going on. Jack called the voice mail our bulletin board, and it was a pretty good system.
    The first message was from Faye Parker, Mom's best friend since first grade. They live two thousand miles apart now, since Mom and I moved to Pennsylvania when I was four and Faye stayed at home in Pryor, Texas. Faye had visited Mom and me only once, when Jack took the girls to Shanghai for the first time, but she and Mom talked regularly.
    "Terri, this is Faye. I'm at work and I can't find your cell number. Do me a favor and call when you get in. Thanks. It's kinda important."
    We keep