Liar by Francine Pascal Read Free Book Online

Photography’s a tough business. Especially in this town. Very competitive.”
    George nodded. “Right,” he said, without any conviction.
    Tom swallowed, regarding his friend closely. He hadn’t noticed before—but George seemed haggard. His skin was very pale. Puffy sacks hung beneath his eyes.
    â€œI’m sorry,” Tom murmured.
    â€œIt’s okay,” George answered. He smiled tiredly. “It’ll pass. Every relationship suffers ups and downs.”
    Tom nodded. That statement was truer thanGeorge probably even realized. It certainly applied perfectly to his relationship with Gaia. He extended a hand. “If there’s anything I can—”
    â€œDon’t worry,” George interrupted. His voice caught. “I’ll make it work.” His jaw twitched, but he looked Tom in the eye. “For Gaia’s sake.”

Concentration Camp Victim
    WHEN HEATHER FIRST STEPPED INTO the cold and antiseptic-smelling intensive care ward, her first reaction was one of rage. Pure rage. Staring down at Phoebe’s skeletal frame—the way she was hooked up to all those IVs, lying under the blankets and sickly green hospital robes as if she were already a corpse—Heather wanted to wring Phoebe’s neck. To scream. To tear Phoebe’s beautiful brown hair from her scalp.
    You idiot! How could you let this happen? How could you do this to yourself?
    But she didn’t. She kept her mouth shut. Because Heather knew if she tried to speak, she would very likely start bawling like an infant.
    â€œI can’t believe we didn’t see this coming,” her mother whispered at her side.
    Heather swallowed and shook her head.
Right,
she thought bitterly. Maybe part of her anger had to do with the guilt that was presently shredding her insides. Heather
had
seen this coming. Only last week she’d found herself gaping in shock at Phoebe’s naked body, fresh from the shower—at those protruding eye sockets, at all the bones that jutted sharply from beneath her pallid and anemic flesh. Heather had even gone so far as to comment on how thin her sister looked.
Too
thin. Heather had seen something like this coming and done nothing to stop it.
    Now Phoebe’s body was so starved, so deprived of nutrients that it simply wouldn’t function. It had shut down, like a toy that had run out of batteries.
    Of course, toys didn’t have souls. They didn’t look like concentration camp victims, either. They didn’t need life-support systems just to keep their frail hearts beating—
    â€œMaybe you should go home, Heather,” her mother whispered.
    â€œNo,” Heather croaked. She shook her head again, violently. She’d only been here twenty minutes. She had no intention of leaving. Not until Phoebe gave her some kind of sign—
anything—
to prove that she was still with them. And a pulsating beep or a blip on a screen didn’t count. No way. Phoebe had to say something.To open her eyes, if only for a second. Even the mere lifting of a finger would be enough.
    The door opened behind them.
    Heather glanced over her shoulder. A short, balding doctor in a white lab coat stood there, holding a clipboard.
    â€œI’m very sorry,” he murmured with a sympathetic smile. “You’re going to have to wait outside now. We need to run a few more tests.” He gestured down the hall
    Heather exchanged a quick glance with her mother. Her throat caught. In the sickly blue glow of the fluorescent lights, she couldn’t help but be struck by the resemblance between Phoebe and Mom. Both had those same deep-set eyes, the same mouth … only Mom’s lips were full and red, whereas Phoebe’s were cracked and nearly white. Mom’s arms didn’t look like you could snap them with two fingers. A network of purplish veins weren’t bulging beneath translucent skin. Heather shot a quick glance back toward her