The Shimmers in the Night

Nine

It seemed like only moments later that Cara heard the sound of the lock on their door clicking, and before she could even move the door opened.

There was Hayley's mom in all her big-hair glory, sporting a hot-pink jumpsuit that made her look like some kind of high-fashion paratrooper.

Cara rubbed her eyes and sat up in bed. Morning light leaked in along the edges of the heavy hotel drapes.

"Rise and shine, girls!" said Mrs. M brightly, and then saw Cara. "Cara! Jackson! Well, I'm glad you're feeling better, Jax. I'm glad to see the staff at the Institute brought you two back last night instead of this morning. Though of course—this goes without saying, Cara—you should have checked in with me the very minute you arrived!"

"I'm really sorry, Mrs. M," murmured Cara.

"It's only because your father trusts those people so much, and the lady on the phone seemed so on top of things, that I didn't have a coronary. But that doesn't change the fact that you snuck off behind my back, and we'll have to have a little talk later about your escapade. And with your daddy, too. What you did is serious, girl. You could have been real badly hurt. Or lost. Heaven knows what."

She shot Cara a stern look, the kind that promised a future campaign to convince Cara's dad to ground her. Cara nodded, penitent. Mrs. M, who Cara suspected didn't like to be tough but felt she had to, cleared her throat then and reached up to fiddle with one of the beads on her necklace.

Despite the stern look, Cara felt she was getting off easy—way easier than Hayley would if her mom found out what she had done.

"Anyhow, it's a relief you two are back," said Mrs. M, in a more normal tone. "I worried that if they waited to drop you off at the meet, Cara might miss her race. Of course, your older brother's girlfriend has also gone off-campus, Cara, as you may have heard. Quite a handful, that one, is what I hear. We're still working on it."

She strode over and tugged on Hayley's blankets.

"Come on. Up and at 'em, little mermaids!"

"Mom, please," groaned Hayley. "I'm not even competing today. And Jaye's an alternate. Why can't we just hang here and sleep in?"

"This is a team effort, Hayley. You're not going to abandon the team just because you stayed up late chit-chatting. Now up! The continental breakfast is almost over. They have those Danishes you like. Cherry!"

Hayley groaned again, and Jaye pulled the coverlet up closer to her chin.

It struck Cara that Mrs. M shouldn't see that Hayley and Jaye had gone to bed in their street clothes—which were dirty, torn, and probably smelled like smoke. So she threw back her own blankets and moved to get up, to try to keep Hayley's mom's attention on herself.

But touching the covers made her palms smart, and she jerked them back again.

"My Lord, what happened to your hands?" burst out Mrs. M, apparently not noticing her clothes.

"Oh," said Cara. There again, she hadn't thought up a story yet.

"It was so hot...," began Hayley

Cara glanced at her, alarmed.

"It was so hot in here. We couldn't sleep," she went on, sounding more sure of herself. "From the heater—that one. On the wall under the window? So she got up in the middle of the night to turn it down, but it was dark, and I guess the metal on that thing gets really hot."

"My Lord!" said Mrs. M again, and bent down to touch Cara's wrists delicately, turning them so that her hands were palms up. "That's criminal! That's just negligent! And a fire hazard, too! My goodness, you poor thing! We should sue the pants off them!"