Free Ten by Gretchen McNeil Page A

my—”
    Meg froze. The room looked like a bomb had gone off. Every drawer of the dresser had been pulled out and their contents—primarily Minnie’s weekend wardrobe—were strewn across the room. Underwear hung from the lampshade. A pair of shorts was caught on the mirror. Tanks and jeans, dresses and skirts carpeted the floor.
    Both beds had been literally torn apart. Sheets lay at the foot of the bed, mattresses dislodged, pillows ripped from their cases and tossed aside.
    Minnie’s suitcases were overturned, clothes and cosmetics scattered across the room, as if someone had shaken out the contents of her bags. Even Meg’s backpack hadn’t escaped the slaughter. Her cosmetics case and journal had been unceremoniously dumped on the armchair and her precious laptop had fallen onto the floor, propped up against the dresser.
    It took Meg a moment to digest the scene, a moment longer to find Minnie. She was huddled in the corner, Ben crouched by her side. Her face was red and wet with tears.
    “What’s wrong?” Meg asked. She’d seen Minnie in various stages of disarray, depression, and out-and-out despondency, but this? This was a first.
    “Someone stole my pills,” Minnie said. Despite the signs of crying, her voice had a dispassionate matter-of-factness about it that unnerved Meg.
    “ Stole your pills?” Meg pulled one of her hooded sweatshirts off the back of the easy chair and pulled it on over her pajamas. “Come on, no one would steal your pills.”
    Minnie’s hazel eyes flashed. “Then how do you explain the fact that they’re missing, huh? Some sort of magic trick?”
    Meg glanced at Ben, who stayed quiet and rubbed Minnie’s back. Great, no help there.
    “Maybe you forgot to pack them,” Meg said.
    “I didn’t. I double-checked.”
    “Maybe you misplaced them?” Meg knew the words were stupid as soon as she heard them come out of her mouth.
    “Are you kidding?” Minnie sneered. She held her hands out, gesturing to the overturned room. “Don’t you think we looked?”
    “Meg?” T.J.’s voice floated up through the staircase. “What are you doing?”
    Crap. “Look, come downstairs. Maybe someone else has a prescription.”
    Minnie shook her head. “No way.”
    “She won’t go down ’til the …” Ben paused. “’Til Lori’s gone.”
    “Oh, right.” Meg shuddered at the idea of removing Lori’s body from the stairwell. “The boys are going to take her down in … in a bit.” She wasn’t sure which was worse: leaving Lori there or taking her down.
    “Are the police coming?” Minnie asked.
    Double crap. Should she tell her that the phones had been knocked out by the storm? Minnie’s eyes darted back and forth between Meg and Ben, clearly searching for some word of comfort. Yeah, this probably wasn’t the time to bring up the phone situation. That might push Minnie over the edge.
    Instead of answering, Meg squeezed her friend’s hand and gave her what she hoped was a confident, reassuring grin. Then she picked up her laptop and her journal, shoving the latter into the pocket of her sweatshirt. She didn’t want it lying around.
    “Why are you taking your laptop?” Minnie asked. Her voice cracked. “What’s going on?”
    “I need to go back downstairs,” Meg said.
    “Why?” Minnie prodded.
    Ben’s eyes flitted from the laptop to Meg’s face. She saw a moment of confusion, then he seemed to understand what was going on, and gave her a short nod.
    “Will you stay with her?” she asked.
    “Totally.”
    “Good. Thanks. I’ll be back in a bit.” Then before Minnie could ask any more questions, Meg disappeared down the stairs.
    “It won’t work.”
    Kumiko sighed. “Why not?”
    “The power’s out,” Vivian continued, always the voice of hope and joy. “Do you think that’s exclusive of the router?”
    “Unless we’re hardwired,” Meg said as she plugged the network cable into the back of her MacBook. “If it’s satellite internet the dish might have