Free The Gifted Ones: A Reader by Maria Elizabeth Romana Page B

out into the hallway. There was no smoke and no sirens, and the disturbance down below seemed to have quieted, except for the intermittent sounds of Angel’s voice in what seemed more like a motherly tirade than an act of war.
    Deciding she was safe, Ellie stepped to the door of the next room down and peeked inside. Like Angel’s room, it reeked of early Americana—a quilted spread covered an old four-poster bed, lacy curtains adorned a large window, and an old desk and dresser completed the ensemble. Ellie wondered whether they were true, valuable antiques, or just really old stuff, like all the furniture in their house in Atlanta.
    A pile of clothes and bath items were neatly arranged on the bed, with one outfit obviously laid out for dinner. Ellie tried it on. Based on the way Granny dressed herself, Ellie had half-expected a Depression-era dress, compression hose, and sensible shoes, but it turned out to be a pretty cool combo—a slim-fitting sundress in a pale lemon color, covered with a tiny daisy pattern, and a white cashmere sweater to match. Ellie had never even seen a real cashmere sweater before, didn’t know they still made them. She ran her hands over the soft fabric; it was like petting a rabbit. She donned the outfit and then finished the job with the smattering of cosmetics and hair accoutrements that had been included in the pile. Funny how this Granny person seemed to know just the kind of things Ellie liked.
    When she was ready, she made her way back to the stairs. The place looked deserted as she walked down, and she started to wonder if perhaps she’d been wrong to dawdle. Maybe something horrendous had happened, and she was the only survivor…
    “Oh, there you are, Elodie! Come, come, dear, everyone’s waiting.” Granny beckoned with an impatient look, and then hurried Ellie through an open doorway. “Found her,” she announced to the room.
    Ellie stiffened, as every one of twenty or thirty pairs of eyes turned in her direction. She had a sudden urge to turn tail and run under the scrutiny. The room included all the new faces she’d encountered in the last twenty-four hours and a bunch more—folks of all ages, from the youngest, like Poppy Prentiss, to a few gray-hairs who appeared older than Granny, and all staring at Ellie. She wondered if the floor might do her a favor and just swallow her up right then.
    But it wasn’t that bad. Most of them waved or nodded a greeting, and a few tossed over a quick hello or welcome, and then returned to what they were doing, which was standing around and chatting, or sitting at one of several tables and filling their plates with food. Most, but not all. Her Uncle Joe was there, staring at her, dumbfounded, and Aunt Grace, who stood next to him, seemed mesmerized, as well. In a whisper that almost escaped Ellie’s hearing, Joe said, “Lucy.”
    His pronouncement seemed to shake Aunt Grace. She stepped over to Ellie and gently touched her hair. Then she dropped her hand to Ellie’s shoulder and ran it down the length of her arm. She looked over at Granny. “This sweater, the dress. Where—”
    Granny’s stern look softened. “She left them behind, a long time ago, when she was in college, I think.” Granny shrugged. “I never throw anything out.”
    Ellie’s jaw dropped. “Wait, you’re saying…you mean this stuff belonged to my mom?” She ran her hands down the front of the dress, and stopped at the waistline to finger a tiny bow. “She wore this outfit?”
    Aunt Grace wrapped her arm around Ellie’s shoulder and looked her in the eye. “Yeah, kiddo. I remember it like it was yesterday. Lucy took her gawky baby sister along to the mall to pick it out. She was looking for something special to wear on a first date with a handsome young man she’d just met. When she was all dressed and ready, I thought she looked like a fairy tale princess.”
    “She did.”
    Ellie’s head jerked up at Joe’s remark. She wrinkled her forehead, trying to