House of Reckoning by John Saul Page A

wrong?” Sarah stammered. What was going on? What had she said?
    Angie Garvey sipped from her own glass of water, then dabbed her napkin at the corners of her mouth. “Bettina Philips is not someone you should be associating with,” she said, the distaste for the woman’s name clear on her face. Then she added, “She is a witch.”
    Sarah’s mouth dropped open. A witch? What on earth was Angietalking about? But before she could ask, her foster mother answered her unspoken question.
    “This is a Christian community,” she declared. “And there is no place in it for the likes of Bettina Philips.”
    Sarah’s eyes flicked toward Mitch, but his expression was as implacable as Angie’s.
    “Outside of class, you must never speak to her,” Angie went on. “In this house—in every good house in Warwick—we do our best never to speak of her at all.”
    Sarah could barely believe what she was hearing, but her foster mother was still not finished.
    “On Sunday,” Angie Garvey continued, “you’ll have a chance to cleanse your spirit in church.”
    “I—I don’t understand,” Sarah began, finally setting down her fork as her appetite deserted her. “She’s my teacher. All we talked about was …” Her voice trailed off, but now everyone’s eyes were fixed on her again and she knew she had to say something else. “We talked about art,” she said, her voice coming out in a whisper that sounded desperate even to her own ears.
    “Then let me make it real clear,” Mitch said, jabbing at the air with his fork. “You don’t speak to that woman except to do whatever you need to do to pass her class. Not one extra word. You don’t talk to her, you don’t talk about her, you don’t even look at her. Got it?”
    Sarah put her hands in her lap. “Yes, sir,” she whispered.
    “Jesus Christ, Angie,” Mitch said, still glowering at Sarah. “All we need is for this kid to be getting ideas from Bettina Philips!”
    Angie put a calming hand over her husband’s, and a moment later he shook his head in disgust and returned to his meal. But Angie’s expression told Sarah that she was in total agreement with her husband and that she had better pay very close attention to what Angie had just said.
    She chanced a look at Tiffany, who only shook her head and looked away.
    The message was more than clear.
    She was now forbidden to speak to the one and only person in Warwick who had been nice to her.

    Lily Dunnigan tried to work the crossword puzzle while her husband read the evening newspaper, but the house was quiet.
    Too quiet.
    She couldn’t concentrate.
    And Nick had been unusually cheerful at dinner. He’d eaten everything she served him, then disappeared up to his room to do his homework.
    And she hadn’t heard a peep out of him since.
    No wonder she couldn’t concentrate: usually by this time of day the voices in his head were so out of control that he was upstairs sobbing or banging his head against the wall—anything to shut them out. But not tonight.
    Could they finally have hit on the right medication? Was it actually possible? She set her crossword aside. “I’m going up to check on Nick.”
    Shep Dunnigan barely glanced up from his paper. “He’ll never be normal if you don’t start treating him like a normal kid.”
    “I’ll just go see what he’s doing.”
    Shep sighed loudly and rattled the paper as he turned the page. Lily walked softly up the stairs and tapped on Nick’s door. “Come on in,” Nick said.
    Lily opened the door and peeked in. Nick sat at his desk, writing in a spiral notebook. “What are you doing?” she asked.
    “Chemistry,” Nick said. He made a couple more notations, then set his pen down. “Done.”
    “All finished?” She moved into his room and perched nervously on his bed. Though it seemed as if she’d been praying for a sight this ordinary all Nick’s life, actually seeing him act like a normal teenager with no worse problems than too much homework was