Free Curse of the Sphinx by Raye Wagner Page A

exception of the observatory there really isn’t anything to do in Goldendale. Do you want me to look for something else?”
    “No, this sounds perfect.”
    It took more time to settle into a small community, but maybe she would be able to stay longer without risking discovery by another immortal.
    She called a moving company and arranged to have them pick up her things from storage in the morning and deliver them to the house on Main Street in Goldendale in the afternoon. She coordinated for an agent to meet them, and then, finished with the necessities of moving, she grabbed her bags from the closet. She wrapped the statue of Hecate in soft cotton, then surrounded it with her clothes. It took only a few more minutes to pack the rest.
    “Hope Treadwell!” Mrs. Smith’s abrasive voice was followed by a pounding on her door. “Get out here right this minute, young lady. I need some help.”
    This was the only reason Mrs. Smith had taken her in. At sixteen, she was perfect for babysitting. It also helped that the Smiths received a healthy stipend for fostering.
    She opened the door and glanced down at the mousy woman. She waved the envelope at her, and then stepped around her into the hall.
    “Oh.” Mrs. Smith’s shoulders slumped in defeat. She must have already gotten a call from Children’s Services.
    Hope wondered briefly how long she’d known and didn’t tell her. Without a word, she brushed past the older woman, loaded her car, and drove away.

 
     
     
     
    HOPE ENTERED GOLDENDALE High School, and the residual scent of pine disinfectant wafted through the abandoned halls. She’d intentionally arrived early, anxious to get things in order, eager to be settled.
    As she walked into the front office, a bell chimed at her arrival. A well-nourished middle-aged woman glanced up from the computer, her flat brown eyes widening as she noted the new face. Hope glanced down at the nameplate on the desk: Ms. Slate. The silence became increasingly awkward.
    “Hi.” Hope’s voice broke, and she cleared her throat. “I assume this is where I’m to register?”
    Ms. Slate didn’t even so much as say good morning, but turned and began gathering papers.
    Hope waited, noting the older woman’s overprocessed burgundy hair and clothes that were too tight to be called “fitted.”
    Ms. Slate whipped back around and handed a packet of papers to her. “You’ll need to fill that top one out now, and wait while I get your classes together.”
    Hope took the proffered pen and began writing. She stuttered over the last name, crossing out an N before writing Treadwell .
    Feeling the hairs on her neck prickle, Hope looked up to see the plump woman staring at her.
    “Here’s your schedule and your locker assignment,” she said. “Class starts in fifteen minutes. You can bring the rest of the papers back to me at the end of the day.” Ms. Slate grabbed the paper marked Registration , put it in a wire basket on the counter, and sat back in front of her computer.
    “But you don’t even have my name.”
    “Hope Treadwell.” She didn’t even look away from her screen as she spoke. “Your attorney called Friday and told us you’d be coming.”
    She nodded. “Of course. Thank you.”
    The woman continued her furious typing.
    Nice and friendly here . With a shrug, she left to find her locker.
    In the few minutes since she’d been in the office, the hallways filled with students. It was no surprise to feel the shift of scrutiny turn on her. The real estate agent said she was the first person in years to move into the small town of Goldendale, and as an emancipated student, she was an anomaly. She tried to ignore the whispers, but with her supernatural hearing the voices were undeniable.
    “Yeah, I heard her parents are dead and she lives by herself.”
    “Doesn’t she have any family?”
    “I don’t know.”
    “Maybe she doesn’t want to live with them.”
    “But she can’t live by herself, can she?”
    “Maybe