Who Are You? (9780307823533) Read Free Page B

mother.”
    “Mom’s upset right now. She won’t want to be interrupted—especially if Edna is giving her some important information.”
    I want to win this argument, so I try hard to stay calm and rational and not get all excited and lose my temper. When Mom blows up, she claims it’s because teenagers are so exasperating. When I do, she says it’s because I’m immature. Sometimes it’s a no-win with Mom. Dad’s easier to deal with. “I’ll be with Lindy,” I reassure him. “Nothing’s going to happen to me.”
    Dad thinks about what I’ve said for a long, miserable moment. Then he nods. “Well, in the days ahead you’ll have to go to school, Kristi, and your mother and I will have to go to work. I guess we can’t be with you every minute. I think you’re correct in saying that the police would have warned us if they felt protection was necessary.”
    “Are you telling me I can go to Lindy’s?” I ask.
    Dad flicks one quick, anxious glance in the direction of my mother’s voice. Then he says, “Go ahead, honey. Just be watchful. Be extra careful.”
    “I will, Dad,” I tell him. I kiss him on his forehead and leave as quickly and quietly as I can. I’m shaky. My stomach hurts. I’m scared. My fingers tremble as I shove the key into the ignition of Dad’s car.
    The street is empty. Except for two cars parkeddown the street, no one’s in sight. As I leave the driveway I carefully watch the parked cars in my rearview mirror. Neither of them starts up. In fact, they’re both empty.
Don’t think about being followed
, I tell myself.
No one’s going to come after you.
    Dad’s little four-door, four-cylinder dark blue sedan is quiet and respectable and dull. To get my mind off what I’m doing, I pretend—as I often do—that his car is a low-slung red Lamborghini. In no time I drive the dozen blocks to Lindy’s house. I wonder if I ever will be lucky enough to drive an expensive sports car. I like bright splashes of color. It’s hard to figure out why both my parents are content to wrap themselves in dark shades of brown, gray, or navy blue.
    As I pull into Lindy’s driveway, she’s out on the lawn in grass-stained shorts, her red hair like fireworks in the strong sunlight. I can see that she’s been trying to teach Snickers, her cat, to catch a Frisbee. Snickers, of course, couldn’t be more bored and uncooperative. That doesn’t seem to bother Lindy, who picks up Snickers, nuzzles the top of her head, and grins into the open driver’s window. “What’s up, Kristi?” she asks.
    “Ask your mom if you can come with me,” I tell her.
    Lindy pushes her hair from her eyes and takes a step toward her front door. “Where are we going? The mall?”
    “Not exactly,” I say. “I’ve got something to—um—show you.”
    “You’re not going to tell me?”
    “I will, once we’re on our way,” I answer.
    Lindy shrugs. “Okay. I’ll just tell my mom you’ve got a surprise for me.”
    I hope the excuse will be enough. There’s no way her mom can know we’re going to Ben Taub Hospital. She’d call my mom, and my mom would … Forget it. I’m not exactly lying. I’m just not telling everything I know. There’s a difference.
    While I’m waiting for Lindy, I pull out a map book from under the driver’s seat and look up the directions to Ben Taub. I’ve been in the area fairly often. Rice University. Hermann Park. The Museum of Fine Arts. The zoo. And blocks and blocks and blocks of hospitals in a gigantic medical center. I find the Ben Taub area and plan my route. I’m too shaky to drive the freeways, so I’ll zigzag from Briar Forest to Westpark, cut over to Kirby and down to Sunset, and take Fannin to MacGregor and the Ben Taub Loop. The map shows a parking garage next to the hospital.
    Hurry up, Lindy. Hurry up, hurry up.
I drum my fingers on the steering wheel. It’s going to take at least forty-five minutes to get there.
    The passenger door flies open and Lindy—cleaned