Page 33 of Wounded Dance
Did they take her phone away?
Even if they did, wouldn’t it ring? Did her parents deactivate it totally?
I head back inside the suite to pace a circle around the sofa. Is Mindy in trouble? And if she is, is it because of me?
I glance at the clock. It’s a little after noon. Her mom and brother are almost certainly at home, eating lunch with her. They are homeschooled, like I was. That’s how we became friends.
There’s a chance she might answer her home phone.
I dial it quickly and continue to pace the room as it rings. After a few seconds, I get a message that isn’t their voice mail. Again, a computerized voice saying the caller isn’t available. And no chance to leave a message. It just hangs up.
Surely they haven’t disconnected their home line too.
Then I get it.
They’ve blocked me. My number can’t get through on either line.
I sit down on the sofa. They must really think I’m a threat. Me! Mindy’s best friend!
I’m really worried for her now. Did she get any other kind of punishment?
I walk over to the polished wood desk in the corner of the room. There’s a phone there, one that they wouldn’t know to block. I pick up the receiver and puzzle out how to use it. The instructions say to dial 9, wait for the dial tone, then key in the number.
I do that, typing in Mindy’s cell phone first.
She doesn’t answer, but I do hear her voice on the message. “Hey, everybody,” she says. “I’m losing my phone for a while. Don’t leave a message, because I can’t get it. Hopefully I’ll be back soon. Miss me!”
Despite what she says, I do leave a message.
“Hey, Mindy, it’s me. I’m staying at a hotel, but I don’t know if I’ll still be here when you get this. I’ll keep trying you, though. I miss you.”
Dang. I could try calling her home number from the hotel, but I’m not sure I’m up for talking to her mother, who would most certainly answer if they are watching her so closely.
She’s on Facebook. I’ll try that next.
The drawer to the desk glides smoothly on its track and I pull out the iPad Blitz gave me for Christmas. It’s been my window to the world, which used to be so small. When I lived at home, my parents didn’t allow me to have a phone or computer or even watch television. I had to sneak time online at the church when I could, and that was severely limited.
But now, I can look up anything, talk to anyone.
I power it on and head to Facebook. I have a fake profile there that I created to watch Gwen and Gabriella back before they came to the academy. It’s how I knew when the accident happened and that I should start a wheelchair dance class.
I bring it up now. I still haven’t started an account under my real name, and given my recent bout of fame on Blitz’s show, plus Denham stalking me, it’s probably not the right time to do it.
But I could friend-request Mindy with the fake one. Then send her a private message saying it is me. She doesn’t know I have the account because it is tied to Gwen. But the profile has fifteen or so random strangers as friends, so it wouldn’t be obvious right away why I set it up. I want to save the bombshell about Gabriella for when I see her in person.
Facebook pops up. I’m about to search for Mindy when I see something interesting.
Gwen has added a new picture. It’s her, Gabriella, and a man I’ve never seen on her profile before.
He’s tall and handsome and has his arm around Gwen. Gabriella is reaching up from her wheelchair and holding his hand.
Gwen has met someone.
I’m so glad for her. It’s been well over a year since her husband died. And Gabriella seems to like him.
I flip through her pictures to see if there are any others, but this is the only one. Then I click to her profile to see if there are any mentions. I find one from a few days earlier.
I didn’t say anything sooner because I didn’t want to jinx it, but I’ve been dating a wonderful man. Gabby seems to love him and I think he’s healing both our hearts.
