Shattered by Teri Terry Read Free Book Online Page A

sounds to me the sort of name a ten-year-old would give a kitten.
    Well. Stella might be a little weird, but given what she puts as rule number one, maybe she and I will get along all right, after all.

CHAPTER EIGHT
----
    I make it to tea at exactly one minute to four, stomach rumbling. Madison and the girl I saw her with earlier are there, and two others; there is no sign of Stella, and I’m told the others are at work in various places around Keswick. There is a teapot, and a plate of warm scones with jam we all swoop on with delight. They usually just get dry biscuits at tea, Madison tells me, and I wonder: is this a special treat for me?
    After they give me a quick tour of the place. There is a TV room with sofas and fireplaces, a library, and a dining room with one long table already set for dinner.
    I wander back to my room to unpack. When we assemble for dinner at seven, Madison pulls me into a seat next to hers. Soon all but two seats are taken. There is a sea of friendly, curious eyes, and names are called out, too many to remember at once. And it all seems…nice. Cosy. Not a place to try to get away from.
    Stella walks in as a clock chimes seven, and chatter quiets down. She takes the empty chair at the end of the table. She looks at the other empty seat, and frowns. ‘Does anyone know where Ellie is?’ There is a murmur of no , shaken heads.
    ‘Maybe she’s not hungry. Maybe she’s not well. Maybe she found something better to do,’ Madison says, and the room falls silent.
    Stella frowns. ‘Then she should have sent word. Could someone check her room, please?’
    Another girl volunteers, and returns moments later. ‘She’s in her room. She fell asleep,’ she says, and I wonder: why doesn’t Ellie come along now?
    The tension on Stella’s face relaxes, and gradually everyone else does also. Serving dishes are passed around. I’m relieved I’m too many seats away to have to try to chat with Stella in front of everyone, but now and then can’t stop my eyes glancing over, finding hers, then spinning away again. This is so surreal : in a room having dinner with my actual real mother for the first time in seven years, yet we sit apart, not speaking. There is a part of me that wants to jump up and say, enough already! And another part happy to keep up the appearance of strangers, to hang back, to observe.
    When we’re done, everyone starts leaving except two on dish duty, stacking plates. The others are wandering out in twos and threes; some head to the TV room, some in other directions, and I stand, uncertain. Did Stella mean for us to talk now? But Madison links my arm in hers and draws me along with her; a few others follow, down a hall and up a few stairs to knock on a door. ‘Come in,’ a voice calls from inside.
    ‘Did you bring me anything?’ a girl asks, and is introduced as the sleepy Ellie. ‘I’m starving!’
    Madison and the others produce rolls and other bits pilfered from dinner.
    ‘I don’t understand – why didn’t you just come and eat with the rest of us?’ I ask. ‘What was the point in sending someone to check on you, then leave you here?’
    Madison rolls her eyes. ‘You can’t have dinner if you are late. Against Weirdo Rule number three.’
    ‘Don’t be so unkind. She’s all right,’ Ellie says, and I’m relieved to hear someone stick up for her. But it doesn’t seem to be the popular opinion.
    ‘It’s ridiculous making us account for every second of the day. We’re not babies,’ another girl says.
    ‘You know why, though,’ Ellie answers, and I get the sense that this is a conversation everyone has heard before.
    Madison scowls. ‘Yeah, but how many years ago was that? Shouldn’t she be over it by now?’
    ‘Over what?’ I ask. An uncomfortable feeling says I already know, but I shouldn’t. Do I ask because it would be normal to ask, or do I need to hear it? Hear somebody else say things I know to be true, but can’t remember.
    ‘You don’t get