Page 100 of The Whispering Night
“Why are you helping me?” Winnie asks. “If you’re a defected Diana, then why do you care what happens to me?”
“Of course I care about you, Winnie.” Ms. Morgan shivers, her arms hugged to her chest. “I mean it every time I say I’m on your side.”
“That’s not an answer.”
“It’s a long story.”
“Well, do you have something better to do?” Winnie flings out her arms. The spirit on her shirt looks like it’s winking.
“We need to keep moving—and get more clothes.”
“No.” Winnie stops now. The Ferris wheel rocks and sways. “Explain to me why you’re here. Too many people have kept secrets from me lately, and I’m not moving until you tell me exactly what’s going on.”
Ms. Morgan grimaces. Then rubs at her eyes. Then finally mumbles, “Okay. It’s… well.” She waves toward Winnie’s neck. “When you put a message in your locket a few days ago, your grandmother Harriet received it. She contacted Professor Funday, who then found me. I gathered up the rest of the birthday cards and met you at the old museum—where I was shocked to discover another Diana in Hemlock Falls who cast that hotspot spell. Now, here we are.”
Winnie stares at Ms. Morgan. Her jaw sags. “Here… we are? You just went from A to Z without any of the alphabet in between. What does Professor Funday have to do with anything? How does my grandma Harriet have a locket? And why the hell do you have birthday cards from my dad?”
Ms. Morgan’s grimace deepens. Because Winnie is almost yelling now. Which is foolish, since sound carries over water—and the Tuesdays will hear if she isn’t quieter. But she can’t make herself care. The flint sparks have turned into a bonfire.
“There were three of us originally,” Ms. Morgan answers, her voice appeasing and gentle. “Defected Dianas, I mean, living in Hemlock Falls. One was Theodosia Monday.”
“The lady who wrote all those books on Dianas?”
“Yes. She goes by Funday now because that’s just the sort of person she is. Then, I was the second Diana. And the third…” Here Ms. Morgan dithers, as if she really doesn’t want to finish this sentence. As if she hates to be the bringer of bad tidings.
But Winnie already knows what’s coming next. The alphabet is filling in, and she can see where at least half the letters are headed.B = Grandma Harriet had a locket. C = Dad had a locket too. That means D is…
Her spine gives way, so fast she barely staggers to a bench beside the Ferris wheel. She slumps over. Her glasses slip down her nose. And her brain starts blasting out:I NEED AN ADULT!
Ms. Morgan eases beside Winnie. But where Winnie is a spineless lump, Ms. Morgan is all stiff bones and stiffer muscles to hold them.
And at last, the letterDarrives. Two circles on Winnie’s Venn diagram. On her three-petaled trilliums, drawn and redrawn a thousand times.
“Your dad,” Ms. Morgan says, her voice scarcely louder than the boat engines in the distance. “The third Diana was your dad, Winnie.”
D for Dad.
D for Diana.
CHAPTER
41
“Four years ago,” Ms. Morgan continues, “your mom caught your dad doing magic. It was bad, and your family was hauled in for questioning. But you weren’t the only ones who got interrogated that night. Funday and I were brought in too—it’s how I learned Teddy was a defected Diana like me. It’s also how I learned that your dad cast a spying spell to steal Luminary secrets.” She glances at Winnie, as if expecting a reaction.
But Winnie can’t move. All these years she thought her dad was a Diana… and he was.Anyone could be a Diana. A Diana could be anyone.Winnie’s eyes close. Her glasses have almost fallen off her nose.
“After hours of interrogation,” Ms. Morgan continues, “the Tuesdays decided that Teddy and I knew nothing. We were sent home. But with the expectation that we never,everstep out of line.”
Winnie coughs now. A sound of incredulity becausereally? Ms. Morgan and Professor Funday were told tobehavewhile Mom, Darian, and Winnie became outcasts? “Why did they believeyouknew nothing, but they wouldn’t believe my family?”
Ms. Morgan rubs her lips together, like they’re dry. Like they’re hurting her. “I… honestly don’t know, Winnie. I cannot tell you how many times I’ve wondered the same thing. But I’ve never dared ask. I’m sorry.”
Winnie sits up. “That doesn’t make sense though. I’m still missing letters of the alphabet. You just said you had my dad’s birthday cards. Which meansyouare the one who’s been delivering them for four years, right? But why? And how?”
Ms. Morgan gulps. “Look, Winnie,” she begins. But then a long pausefollows, as if she’s already lost her words. As if they somehow got separated into a twisty crossword puzzle, and all she has now are the clues.Eleven across: Another word for clusterfuck.
“A… few days after your dad disappeared,” she begins haltingly, “I found a stack of cards in my mailbox—along with instructions on what to do with them… And, well, I got scared. When a Diana defects, we become the enemy to all other Dianas. A kill-on-sight situation. Plus, since your dad was alegatum—”
