BEL AIR, CALIFORNIA

THE BOYD MANSION

Saturday, September 8th

9:14 am

Claire felt strangely nervous as she stood with Abby on the front step of the Boyds' mansion. The two of them had landed in Los Angeles the previous night and had stayed at a hotel until morning, because Abby said that her parents would never talk to them in the middle of the night. That morning, they had gotten a taxi to bring them here.

Having never packed, Claire was wearing the same pink tee shirt and jeans from yesterday, except the jeans were rolled up to the knees in the California heat. Abby was outfit-repeating, too, but she still looked fabulous in her knee-length cream baby-doll dress.

Claire had had a chance to call her mother from the plane, and Judi Lyons was furious with Claire for leaving on such short notice, but she said that they would talk about it once Claire got back.

Claire hoped Vanessa knew what a sacrifice she was making for her.

Abby rang the doorbell, and a maid in a prim black uniform opened it. "Oh, Ahbby!" she said in an indiscernible accent. "I did not know you vood be returning so soon! Come in, bring your friend! I vill get your moddher, yes?"

"Please," Abby replied as she and Claire stepped into the grand foyer.

The maid bustled upstairs, calling, "Mrs. Boyd!"

As Massie had taught her, Claire tried not to look too impressed, but the Boyd's mansion was nothing but opulent and, well, impressive. "Nice house," Claire whispered to Abby.

Abby chuckled. "Thanks."

Then Abby's mother descended the stairs, the maid right behind her. "Shall I get drinks?" the woman offered.

Delia Boyd nodded. Then she exclaimed, "Abby!" She enveloped her daughter in a brief hug.

Abby was stiff in her mother's arms. "Mom," she said flatly.

"What brings you back so soon? Who's this?" Delia was smiling brightly, oblivious to Abby's tenseness.

"This is Claire Lyons." Abby introduced Claire. "She's…a friend of mine."

"Oh, darling," Delia gushed.

Claire wasn't exactly sure what she meant. When Abby's mother pulled her into a hug, she tried not to gag on the woman's heavy perfume.

"So why are you back so soon? Where's your luggage?"

Abby looked at her mother darkly, and the woman finally swept the cheery look from her face.

"Abby, dear, what is it?" Delia inquired.

"We need to talk," Abby stated.

Delia sighed. "Then let's at least sit down."

The three of them headed to the living room, which was through a wide doorway. Delia set herself primly down on the loveseat, Abby plopped down on a cushy armchair, and Claire was left to perch herself on the long sofa. The furniture was so immaculate that Claire was afraid to put half of her butt on it.

"Okay," Abby began, looking her mother in the eye. "We need to talk about Vanessa."

Claire could see Delia stiffen. "What about Vanessa?" the woman asked.

"Vanessa does not need to be in rehab," Abby declared. "She is perfectly sane and healthy."

"She tried to commit suicide," Delia countered coldly. "You call that sane and healthy?"

Abby sighed and didn't say anything for a long while. Claire shifted uncomfortably on the sofa. "It was my fault," Abby finally began, "that Vanessa tried to kill herself."

"What?" Delia Boyd looked at her daughter quizzically.

"It was my fault all along," Abby went on, "that Vanessa cut herself."

Delia looked at Abby like she had grown a pair of antlers out of her head. "How?"

Abby cast her gaze to her lap and said, "I was the one who made Vanessa start cutting herself. She was jealous of me, because she had always wanted to be an actress. But I was the one who got the job from that audition; I was too selfish to get Vanessa an audition, too. And ever since then, Vanessa has hated me. She has felt like nothing in comparison to me. That was why she was cutting herself. She couldn't prove to herself that she was alive, not when I overpowered her in everything. But slitting her wrists made her feel like she was living, because she was feeling pain."

Claire was surprised that Abby knew all of this. A bubble of anger welled up in her—how could Abby have known this and not done something about it? Did she want Vanessa to go on cutting herself? Then she remembered what Abby had said in the car. I just liked having that power over her. It's like I don't have enough power over myself, so I had to be able to control someone.

Delia was still staring at her daughter. "Is this true?" A tinge of pain darkened her voice.

Abby closed her eyes and nodded.

"Then—" Delia hesitated before continuing, "How did you make her want to…kill herself?"

Abby's eyes opened. "She had her friend Massie over at the apartment. But I revealed her cutting to Massie. And Vanessa thought her life was over, because Massie walked out on her after that. And she thought Massie was going to tell everyone, and it would be the end of her."

Delia seemed to mull over this for a few seconds. "How is this supposed to prove that Vanessa doesn't need to be in rehab?" she questioned.

Abby opened and closed her mouth. Claire shifted in her seat; she could tell Abby couldn't think of anything to say. How was this supposed to prove that Vanessa didn't need to be in rehab?

"Mom," Abby finally said. "If you would just go visit her or something, you'd see. I'm sure you didn't take much time with Vanessa when she arrived here. You just shipped her off to rehab."

Delia's eyes narrowed, but she didn't say anything.

"Have you even talked to the counselors?" Abby went on. "They'd probably say Vanessa was absolutely fine if you actually called them."

Delia shook her head slowly. "I'm not allowed to contact Vanessa's counselors until her stay is over."

"And how long might that be?" Abby asked somewhat derisively.

"Four months."

"What!?" Abby screeched.

Claire stiffened. "Don't yell so loudly," Abby's mother admonished her.

"Vanessa does not need four months of rehab," Abby stated. "If you would just go visit her, you would see that. You would see that, thanks to Claire, she is absolutely fine!" Abby gestured at Claire.

Delia fixed her eyes on Claire, who shifted nervously under her gaze. "Are you the girl who saved Vanessa?" Delia suddenly asked.

"Yeah," Claire mumbled, nodding. She looked back at Abby's mother.

Claire would have given a "thank you" if she were talking to the person who had stopped her daughter from killing herself. But Delia Boyd's cold gaze shifted back to Abby after five seconds.

"You want me to visit Vanessa." Delia didn't say it like a question.

"Yes," Abby replied.

"Okay then. Let's go."