Free A Family Affair: A Novel of Horror by V. J. Banis

streak that even her mother had not been able to break. Quiet and meek she might be, but she could be as stubborn as a mule when the occasion demanded; and she thought that it did now.
    I will sit here just as long as they do, she vowed silently, and I will pretend that I have not even noticed their little game. And when they finally do serve breakfast, I may even tell them that I am stuffed and cannot eat another bite.
    But they did not serve any food. They kept right on with the pantomime of eating what they had already, or rather, what they did not have. All of them pretended to eat, that is, except Jennifer and one other member of the group.
    With a sense of genuine relief, Jennifer stole a glance at the young girl beside her on her left. She was scarcely more than a child, pretty in a china doll fashion; her skin incredibly white, like fine marble, and her hair a blue black cloud that framed a face of almost heartbreaking sweetness. And, most endearing of all from Jennifer’s point of view, she was the only one at the table, except for Jennifer herself, who was not taking part in the joke. She sat without touching her utensils, staring idly down at her empty plate.
    â€œThe poor child is probably starving,” Jennifer thought; then she did something quite impulsive and most unusual for her. She reached over and gently placed her hand upon one of the girl’s hands.
    The girl jumped, startled, and turned to look at her. Jennifer winked—a quick wink, just enough to let the child know that she understood what was going on, and that she appreciated the girl’s refusal to take part in it. They exchanged quick, conspiratorial smiles.
    â€œYou’re not eating,” Aunt Christine said unexpectedly, interrupting their silent exchange.
    â€œWe’re not hungry,” Jennifer answered calmly for both of them. There, she thought, score one up for her. Now they knew that she didn’t care that much for their silly game.
    â€œIn fact,” she added on an impulse, “I wonder if you would just excuse me.”
    She pushed her chair back, noting the dust with disgust, and rose quickly without waiting for anyone to excuse her. Whatever their purpose was, she had suffered quite enough of it for one morning. If neither Aunt Christine nor her husband would see that she got her car back, she would look after it herself. After all, so far as she knew upon reflection, the car was not really stuck in the mud. It had simply stalled on her after the unexpected dunking. There was every likelihood that it would start by this time, now that it had dried out.
    If that were the case, she could quite easily just drive away, without help from anyone. She had made up her mind that she did not care to spend another night in Kelsey House. She did not like it any more than she liked her new found relatives.
    She went into the hall and started toward the stairs to go up. But she stopped at the foot of the stairs. She had a glimpse of a woman on the landing, disappearing out of sight around the turn there.
    â€œThere’s no getting away from them,” Jennifer thought with annoyance. She placed her foot on the first step and stopped again. She had left the occupants of Kelsey House at breakfast; no one had left the table before her. So who was this she had just glimpsed, mounting the stairs before her? The white robe was no help; they all dressed alike, and she had not seen the face, only the long, dark hair flowing down the back. But it could not be any of those she had already met.
    She remembered then the footstep outside the dining room door, that had come and gone, and Aunt Christine’s explanation that there was another person in the house whom she had not yet met.
    It occurred to her at once that here was someone who had taken no part in the cruel joke the others were playing at her expense. Here, perhaps, was an ally, someone who could help her find her way back to her car.
    â€œWait,” she