The Casquette Girls by Alys Arden Read Free Book Online Page A

A car accident? The rhythm of the knocking wood put me into a meditative state. My tears stopped, and my breathing evened. The claps gradually became louder and louder, drawing my focus back to the window.
    A rusty smell pinched my nostrils, and only then did I realize the cut in my palm was now bleeding profusely. I untied the sash from around my waist and wrapped it tightly around my hand. Back less than a day and I already have two injuries. Dad is going to frea k . I silently mourned the death of the Chanel as the blood soaked through it.
    Sweat dripped down my bac k. Gross . I tugged at my now-damp dress and wiped the tears from my face with the back of my bandaged hand, all the while watching the attic window. The heat was incredible, rippling down my torso in waves, almost feverish. Was it wrong to pray for a cool fron t , I wondered, staring at the convent. Maybe just a little breeze?
    The shutter snapped back shut. Something bothered me about it… and then I realized what it was.
    I stopped and stood perfectly still. There was no breeze; the air was dead. The shutter flapped back open and snapped shut again, as if demanding my attention.
    My pulse picked up.
    I squinted as the shutter flapped open – there was a flash of movement behind the panes before it swung shut again. What the hel l ? I blinked the remaining water from my eyelids.
    When I looked back up, the shutter swung open.
    Faint clinking sounds came from the convent courtyard, like metal raindrops hitting the pavement. Curious, I crossed the street and approached the convent’s iron gate, trying to keep my eyes on the dark window behind the shutter.
    Through the bars, the overgrown garden looked as if it had been abandoned years ago, but then again, that’s how most of the city looked presently. I reached for the ornate handle, but the fixture turned downwards before I touched it. The loud clank made me jump back, and the gate creaked open just enough to let me pass through.
    A little voice inside pleaded with me to bail, but instinct led me through the maze of overgrown hedges as if I’d been there a hundred times before. My eyes went back to the window and refused to look away. As I drew closer, the wooden shutter continued to open and close – slowly and precisely. Once I was directly underneath, I could see the nails popping out of the joining shutter, which was still closed. I glanced at my feet. The ground was covered in long black carpenter nails – clearly the work of a blacksmith, not a modern machine. Had it really been necessary to use so many nails to secure the shutters? A tiny raindrop hit my face.
    The shutter flapped twice more, faster and faster.
    It was slowly pulling itself off the building. Only a single stake in the center hinge kept it from falling, but it, too, was protruding, as if being pulled by some invisible force. The cut on my hand throbbed; the blood had soaked completely through the sash.
    A loud clap of thunder made my pulse race, but my feet still wouldn’t carry me away. I stood motionless, neck craned, watching the shutter wrench itself free until it was suspended by just the very tip of the stake.
    For a brief moment, the world seemed to freeze.
    Then gravity prevailed.
    My arms flew over my head as the dangling shutter crashed three stories to the ground – just a few inches from my feet.
    The speed with which the sky became dark felt wholly unnatural. Bigger droplets of rain began to fall. Too stunned to move, I tried to make sense of what had just happened.
    Suddenly, the remaining wooden shutter slammed open, and the windowpane blew outward in an explosion of showering glass. I fell to the ground and curled into a tight ball, shielding my face. A whoosh of wind whipped around me, and there was a loud whistle that faded into what sounded like sardonic laughter.
    This is not happening right now. This is a drea m .
    The clank of metal nearby forced me to release my tense muscles and unwrap my arms from my