Online Book Reader

Home Category

The Darkness - Jason Pinter [36]

By Root 580 0
comprised of two beanbag

chairs, a twin bed with a frame that looked as stable as

Paulina's ex-husband, and a ratty couch that some homeless person had probably sold to them for less than the

twenty she just gave to Pam. Whatever, Paulina thought.

She didn't have to live in this mess. If her daughter chose

to, so be it.

"Fifteen minutes," Abigail said, checking her watch.

"Then I want you out of here."

"I don't like being here any more than you like me being

here," Paulina said. "Trust me, I'll make it as quick as I can."

They nodded, and Paulina entered the room. She took

a look at the beanbag chairs, then pulled out the tiny desk

chair. She eased herself onto it, and watched as her daughter launched herself into a blue beanbag chair. Abigail

pulled out a cigarette and lit it, opening the window

slightly to let the smoke drift out.

"When did you start smoking?" Paulina asked.

"When did you start caring?" Abigail answered.

"You're not going to make this easy, are you?"

"Is that what you want? You want me to make this

easy? Sure, why not? I mean, we have all these great

memories to fall back on, all these great mother-anddaughter moments we both cherish." She said the last

words with biting sarcasm. "Why are you here, Mom?"

Paulina leaned forward, put her face in her hands, took

a breath. "I need to ask you a few questions."

"Is this for, like, one of your newspaper articles?"

"No, it's nothing like that. Just promise me you'll answer

me, and be honest. I don't care about the answers and I won't

judge you. I just need to know it for safety reasons."

"Safety reasons? What the hell are you talking about?"

104

Jason Pinter

"There's a photo, of you. It was taken at the beach. I

need to know how someone could have seen it?"

"I go to Jones Beach every weekend during the summer," Abigail said. "You'll have to be more specific."

"You're wearing a pink bikini. Yellow sunflowers on

it. You look like you dug some sort of big hole, and...you

look happy. And you were still a blonde."

Abigail thought for a moment. Then she smiled, too.

"Like two months ago," she said. "I went to Jones Beach

with some friends, and buried this guy named Ryan in the

sand. He's dating our friend Marcia. Good times."

"How could somebody else have gotten a hold of that

photo?" Paulina asked.

Abigail's scornful look disappeared, and suddenly

she became concerned. "Why are you asking that?

What happened?"

Paulina leaned back in the chair, the wood stiff and

playing hell with her neck. "There's some guy...he's

trying to get to me, to threaten me, and he said...well, and

he found that photo of you somehow. I need to know

where he could have gotten it."

Abigail's fright took center stage now. She cupped her

hands together, started breathing into them. Paulina was

unsure of what to do at first, but the sight of her only

daughter terrified was too much to bear. She stood up

and went over to her daughter, placing her hands on

Abigail's shoulders.

"Listen, Abby, I would never let anything in the world

happen to you. You might hate me, and you might have

reason to hate me. But I'd sooner let my body be ripped

limb from limb than let anything happen to you."

Abigail choked back a laugh. "Can't we just avoid both?"

Paulina laughed. "Hopefully."

The Darkness

105

"I posted a set of those photos to Facebook," she said.

"Maybe a month ago. I'm not sure."

"So who could see the photos?"

"Anyone I'm friends with online."

"How many friends do you have on Facebook?"

"Hold on, I'll check."

Abigail went over to the desk and sat in the stiff chair.

She turned on the laptop, waited for it to boot, tapping her

dark, polished fingernails on the desk. When the computer

started, Abigail opened Internet Explorer and logged on

to her Facebook account. Paulina saw that Abigail's

profile photo was a close-up of her face, specifically her

left eye and cheek. It was so close you could see every

individual pore. It looked faux artsy, the kind of thing you

took with a webcam and thought it to be poignant.

"A hundred

Return Main Page Previous Page Next Page

®Online Book Reader