Body of Stars by Laura Walter (free ebook reader for iphone TXT) 📕

who are disadvantaged and have no other options.”

“That describes every girl who needs that school, Celeste. It’s only the ones with money that have a chance.”

I frowned. “You might consider how frustrating it is for me to watch you throw your education away when I have nothing—no chance of getting into university, no way of becoming a psychologist.”

“I had to drop out.” He wasn’t looking at me. “It’s my only way to make up for what I did to you.”

“What do you mean?” I asked, but he was silent. “Miles, what are you talking about?”

“Nothing,” he said. “Forget it. Go on downstairs and join Julia for a little while. The girls won’t mind having you around. Maybe you can even help them.”

I was about to argue, but when I saw his expression—wounded, guilt-ridden—I agreed to leave him and go to Julia. He and I probably needed some space from each other anyway.

The girls waiting in the parlor raised their heads in unison when I came downstairs, but when they saw it was me, they looked down again and stared silently at their hands. Seeing them like that, vulnerable and uncertain, made me feel motherly. It made me feel old.

“Before I changed, Julia read my markings, too,” I told them. “I was scared. But don’t worry. Julia’s very skilled.”

“She is,” one girl said. “But Miles is even better.”

I was about to ask what she meant when Julia entered the parlor. Her face was pale.

“I need Miles. Now.” She directed her words my way, but I had the sense she wasn’t fully seeing me. “Celeste, hurry. Tell me where he is.”

I blinked at her, startled. “He’s upstairs. In the guest room.”

Without another word, Julia turned and stiffly ascended the stairs. The girls were now visibly agitated.

“That’s not a good sign,” one whispered to another.

“What’s going on?” I asked, but the girls only studied their hands again.

A faint sound drifted from down the hall. It sounded like crying. I followed the sound to Julia’s office and pushed open the door to find a girl sitting on the chair next to Julia’s desk, gulping back sobs. She had wide-set eyes and a smattering of amber-colored moles across the bridge of her nose. Like the other girls, she looked to be maybe fourteen or fifteen years old and unchanged. She was tall, her body wrapped in a pale blue hospital gown.

“Hi,” I said softy as I entered. “I’m Celeste. I’m Miles’s sister. What did Julia tell you that has you so upset?”

The girl looked at me, tears streaking her cheeks. “Nothing yet, but I saw the look on her face.” She paused to take a strangled breath. “Julia wouldn’t have gone to get Miles if she hadn’t seen something.”

I was still confused. “Like what?”

She lifted her left arm and pushed back the gown. “Here,” she said, pointing to the markings near her elbow. “It must be those, right there.”

Gently, I placed my fingers on her arm and traced her markings. All I could see was a vague indication of illness, like a bad cold.

“I don’t understand.”

Julia reappeared, pulling Miles into the room.

“Look,” she told him, gesturing to the girl’s arm. “Please tell me I’m wrong.”

Miles pressed his fingers firmly to the girl’s arm. Within moments, his face set in a grim expression.

“Yes,” he said simply. The girl snatched at her hospital gown and started to cry harder.

Julia took a deep breath. “Try to calm yourself,” she said. “Think of the other girls waiting out there. You don’t want to frighten them, do you?”

The girl shook her head, the tears streaming down.

“What’s going on?” I asked.

My brother’s eyes skittered across the room instead of meeting mine. “It’s her markings. She’s going to be abducted after she changes.”

“Markings don’t reveal that type of information. That’s not possible.”

“It is,” he said simply. “I learned how to do it. I can tell if a girl is going to be taken.”

A rushing sound, like water or a train or another unstoppable force, flooded my hearing.

“You didn’t see it with me,” I said.

When Miles finally faced me, he looked stunned, his bottom lashes wet with tears. His eyes were entire worlds unto themselves, portals of our grief and lies, the secrets we kept and the futures we destroyed.

“That’s the thing,” he said, “the thing I never told you. I kept it from you to protect you.”

“Miles, stop. This can’t be true.”

“It is. I could tell you were fated to be taken.” His pupils looked huge, about to swallow him up and take me with him. “I never told you, but I knew the entire time.”

Strategies for Reintegration: A 7-Stage Guide for Recovery and Rehabilitation

Stage 7: Acceptance. This final stage is the most elusive. Indeed, many patients never fully accept what happened to them, but it is imperative to try. Acknowledging that you are powerless in the face of your newly changed future need not be distressing; instead, it can be liberating. Give yourself the gift of letting the past wash over you. Allow your trauma to be a part of your new reality.

Absorb it, accept it, let it set you free.

20

Miles called his ability a gift. He said the prediction came to him like starbursts of color behind his closed eyelids: three sparks, all red. Then he knew to check more closely to confirm the girl was destined to be taken.

That was how he knew with me.

We left Julia with the ill-fated girl in the exam area to shut ourselves in the guest room. We sat on the bed next to each other, our shared weight creating a dip in the mattress, a bit of gravity pulling us closer.

“I don’t believe this. I can’t and I won’t.” I leaned forward at the waist, pressing my forearms into my thighs. I was so furious I was shaking.

“I first noticed something odd about the markings on your arm when we were kids, but I didn’t understand what it meant,” Miles said. “Later, when I found a similar