âYou okay?â I asked, noticing the dark circles under her eyes.
âYeah. Just tired. Mom must have been having bad dreams or something. She talked in her sleep all night,â Megan said, avoiding eye contact. âOnce I was awake, I couldnât seem to drift off again.â
I stopped what I was doing, my Oreo-filled hand poised mid-dunk over a glass of milk. â Really ?â I rolled this around in my head for a second. âSoâ¦likeâ¦could you make out what she was saying?â
Megan looked up. She was doing that thing with her ring again, sliding it up and down her finger. I could tell she was struggling with something, like she was wondering whether or not to confide in me. After a worried glance around the room, she leaned in real close and whispered, âStuff like, âYou deserve it. You made me do it.ââ
âWow,â I gasped. âFreaky.â
âI know, and itâs not the first time,â she continued. âSamâs heard her too.â
âI wonder what she was talking about,â I said, mostly to myself.
âNot a clue. But Sam says sheâs had that same dream for ages. I only noticed it since we moved here. Guess my room is closer to hers in this house.â
âWhat do you think it means?â
âIt sounds like something bad, doesnât it?â
âHmmâ¦because it doesnât seem like just a dream, it seems like more of a nightmare.â
âYes, definitely a nightmare,â Megan nodded. âSometimes she yells.â
I knew the answer to this question already, but, âI donât suppose you asked her about it?â
âNo.â
I took a sip of my milk. With this new development, and the box in the furnace room, my brain was definitely nearing overload. âWhat ifâ¦â I began, thinking out loud. But then good sense kicked in.
âWhat if what? Tell me what youâre thinking.â
âForget it, Iâm probably way off.â
âLydia!â
âOkayâ¦What if it has something to do with your dad? Like maybe the person sheâs talking about in her dream is him.â I said it in a really tentative, âfeeling out the topicâ sort of way.
âYou mean like she did something to him?â
âI dunnoâ¦Maybe?â
âSomething bad, you mean,â Megan said, narrowing her eyes.
I shrugged my shoulders. I had a sinking feeling I was going to regret ever opening my big mouth⦠again .
âYou mean something really bad. Like she killed him or something,â Megan accused. Her tone had definitely changed.
âNo, no,â I lied. âYouâre blowing it out of proportion, thatâs the extreme version.â My voice was light, but she didnât buy it. I was back-pedalling, knowing I had gone one step too far.
âYouâre not a very good liar,â she said in a tight voice.
I could feel my face turning red. My brain was screaming at me to shut up. Do you think for once I could just listen? No sir-ee. âBut if you think about it, it could really explain a lot of things. The strange way she acts, those dreams. And, like, whatâs the deal with your dad anyways? She wonât let you even ask a question about him? You have to admit, thatâs kind of weird.â
âMaybe heâs the one who did something bad.â
I took my time answering. âOkayâ¦guess thatâs possible.â I doubted it though. âStill, she must know you guys are going to want to know about him. I mean, really, why wonât she just tell you? Or make something up even? You have no reason not to believe her if she did. Itâs bizarre. You must think so too.â
âJust because she acts weird, or isnât like your mom, doesnât mean sheâs a murderer .â That last word, murderer , just kind of hung there, letters strung through the air.
The screaming in my head finally took over.