Cassie doesn't make me repeat my question a third time.

"It's not a big deal. I tripped on my way home," she says, reaching for the thermos of water she always keeps by her bedside. "I didn't see this dip in the sidewalk and I went flying." She takes a drink and swallows before she recaps the thermos. She won't meet my eyes, which is my first clue that something weird is going on.

"Where?"

"On Drewry," she says still refusing to look at me.

"How did you get home?"

"I walked home."

"Why didn't you go back to the hospital?"

"Because I didn't need to," she says, her tone becoming hostile under my incessant questioning.

"But-"

"She's fine," Dad cuts in, his voice showing his growing annoyance at what he interprets as bickering. "Nothing's broken. I checked."

"But we should-"

"I said I'm fine." The words explode from Cassie's mouth with venom. "Back off." She takes a deep breath and brings her emotions under control. "Stop fussing," she says in a quieter voice.

"Are you sure you fell? Are you sure you weren't being followed and-"

"What are you talking about?" Cassie asks, her eyes wide with shock, while Dad's face remains unreadable.

"Someone sent us roses, Dad," I say turning to him. "And then someone left a paper under my windshield wiper. It was a drawing of us sitting out there on the balcony."

I twist to look at Cassie. "Someone is watching us," I say with force. "It might be Paul. We should call the police, even if you don't want to get checked out at the hospital. No one could have drawn us unless they were watching us from those woods." I point beyond the patio doors outside to the tall trees.

"No!" Cassie shouts.

She closes her eyes as she composes herself. "Do you have any idea what it's like for me here, Leila? I'm the youngest nurse on staff. They don't take me seriously. Do you think I want them gossiping about me? They're going to say we made all of this up for attention. You don't know what small towns are like. Nothing ever happens, so when it does..."

She doesn't finish, but I know she's right. I can just picture Hilary gossiping at school if the police showed up at our house and it makes my blood run cold. Also, it doesn't help that I don't even have the drawing anymore and the roses are long gone.

"Paul has returned to Eyre," Dad says, reminding us of his presence. "He's not in Ludford. He registered his address in Eyre with the authorities. Let's not speak of him again." He sits back against the chair, his head bent. "Show me this drawing."

The pose is relaxed, but it comes off wrong when paired with Dad's intense energy. I once overheard Mom discussing dad with Aunt Phebe. She said it was like being married to a beautiful and detached thunderbolt. With his jet-black hair, inscrutable expression, and his unique mix of Japanese and British features, Dad doesn't share himself. He's there, but he's not there until his anger escapes his iron grip. Then even Mom, who knew how to handle men, got out of his way.

"Where is it?" he repeats turning quiet dark eyes on me.

"I crumpled it into a ball and threw it away."

"Well, that's no use to us," he says, looking down at the floor. He pushes the blood-stained towel away with the tip of his shiny black shoe before bending and handing it to me. "Better take care of it, or it will stain."

"I'm fine, Leila," Cassie repeats in a hushed voice. "I was not followed. I wasn't running away. I slipped and-"

"Which one was it?" Dad asks abruptly.

"What?" Cassie's brows furrow, as if she's struggling to understand the question.

"There's a big difference between tripping and slipping. You said you tripped before and now you say you slipped. Which one was it?"

She remains quiet, frozen by the force of his stare.

"But what about the drawing and roses?" I ask, setting the dirty cloth on her desk. Dad drops his gaze down to his hands again.

"It's nothing," Cassie says, breathing out. "Someone wants to spook us. Why? I don't know. They're bored or they take pleasure in scaring girls who live alone. How should I know what a freak like that thinks?"

"Where exactly were you when you had your accident on Drewry?" I ask, unprepared to let it go.

Cassie's jaw clenches at the way I've said the word 'accident' like I don't believe her. Because I don't. Both Dad and I can tell she's hiding something.

"Stop making this bigger than it is," she says, her voice rising. "I had an accident. Period." She gets to her feet and hobbles forward, avoiding standing on her bad leg. "I'm not talking about this anymore. I'm going to get cleaned up. Go start dinner. It's your turn. Besides, someone needs to talk to you."

"To both of you," Dad corrects, getting to his feet. "I expect you downstairs in five minutes."

[Author's Note:

Seems like Leila's dad is not particularly thrilled with either Leila or Cassie.

Next installment: Thu at 9:15 am]