A Shimmer of Angels by Lisa M. Basso Read Free Book Online

dark it was. How … hopeless. And I know what it’s like to feel like that. When she ran out of class, well, I did the same thing earlier today. It wasn’t my place to check on her, but … I thought if anyone could help …” I shook my head, tears welling in my eyes again. “I … I didn’t know.” It was all I could say.
    Suicide.
    Poor Allison. No one deserved that end. My heart ached for her family.
    I’d seen girls get better. She could have gotten help.
    I wrung my hands together and forced myself to look out the window, to look at anything but the detective.
    “If you haven’t yet told me everything, now would be a good time to say it.”
    “I told you what I saw. Everything.” Or maybe I hadn’t. They didn’t know I picked today to see a boy with wings.
    What if …
    Stop. It.
    I mashed the heels of my hands against my eyelids, trying to blot out the insanity tumbling around my head. The detective looked me over. “Officers tried to get a hold of your father, but since there was no answer—”
    “He’s home! He’s probably working; that’s why he didn’t answer the phone. But he always gets home before we get out of school. It’s not far from here. Please, I’d really like to go home.”
    He started the car and pulled out into traffic. “Fine. We’ll stop by. If he’s not there, I have to take you to the station until an adult can come pick you up. Where do you live?”
    “2036 Sacramento Street. Across the street from Lafayette Park.”
    I squirmed in my seat, desperate to get home and strip off my bloody clothes. I scratched at my skin. Allison’s blood. It would be my undoing, not the hallucinations. The hallucinations of a boy with wings. My body begged me to rock, to let the insanity in again. It was knocking at my door, scratching at walls I’d erected around it. But I couldn’t give in, couldn’t let one hellish day implode everything I worked toward. I bit back the urge to tear through my skin with my fingernails. I forced my eyes on the road, breathing deep and erratic, sure, but still breathing. I just had to get through this. Just keep breathing.

Chapter Eight
    Our house is a Victorian, the color of a typical, San Francisco sky. Most days, the gray matched the mood of its inhabitants.
    “Home sweet home,” I murmured as the detective parked the cruiser at the curb and circled the car to open my door for me. I was almost alone. Alone I could break down. A little. Only a little.
    We climbed the front stairs, each side covered with my potted flowers and plants. Pale pink and soft lavender asters interspersed with the more substantial sage-green, fuzzy lamb’s ear, while coral bells added height and brought in traditional fall colors. My attempt at making this place feel more like a real home and less like a stop between psychiatric wards. I dragged in a deep breath of earthiness. None of the flowers held much in the way of floral scents, but the moist dirt always reminded me of home.
    The forest-green door swung open before we could knock.
    “What did you do now?” Laylah glanced at the detective, then glared at me, like I was the reason for everything wrong in her life. Her superior smirk cut her glare short, the kind of artificial pull of the lips only a sibling could give.
    Even with her intolerable attitude, my twelve-year-old sister was nothing less than beautiful. Her eyes favored Dad, reminding me of the Nikko Blue hydrangeas I used to tend when I was locked up, and her blonde hair shone just like our mother’s used to. No hair products, just healthy, naturally shiny hair.
    Detective Rhodes followed me into the foyer, closing the door behind us. To the right, the living room TV buzzed with life. In direct contrast, the dining room in front of us sat as unused as the day we’d moved in.
    The smug look on Laylah’s face dropped off, replaced by alarm. Her gaze fell to my blood-soaked knees. “Oh my God, Ray. What did you do ?” She grabbed my hands, pushed up my