The Fallen Read Online Free

killed!!!”
    Her mother opened her mouth to say something but didn’t. She ran her fingers through the wispy bangs that framed her face, pushing it out of her eyes. Her hair was thick and blond, as far from the color and texture of Chloe’s own hair as it was possible to get.
    Chloe turned and stomped up to her room.
    Maybe
she
was the one on drugs.
    It was the only explanation Chloe could think of to explain such a blasé reaction. Maybe it was shock? Maybe she really didn’t care. Chloe bitterly considered how easily her mom could have been rid of her. She would be free to throw dinner parties, go to gallery openings, and maybe pick up a really cool boyfriend. The kind who stayed away from complicated situations like
daughters.
Especially adopted ones.
    She thought about the father she could barely remember, gone when she was four.
He
would have cared. He would have rushed her
back
to the hospital, no matter how much she protested.
    Chloe sat on her bed and carefully opened the middle drawer of her bureau. It was the only old piece of furniture in the room, ancient, solid, and oak. Perfect for hiding the only real secret from her mom.
    A little gray mouse sat up on his hind legs and looked up at her expectantly.
    Squeak!
    Chloe smiled and put her hand down next to him, letting the mouse run up it. Her mother absolutely forbade all furred pets—supposedly because of her allergies. But back when her mom had gone on a rampant extermination phase, convinced that the house was overrun with vermin from their less cleanly neighbors next door, Chloe had come home from school one day and found the baby gray mouse in a live trap. With Amy and Paul’s help she’d installed a light in her bureau. Now Mus-mus had a water dropper, a feeder, and an exercise wheel. This was a whole little world her mother knew nothing about.
    She took a Cheerio out of the sandwich bag she kept under her bed and carefully held it out to him; the little mouse grabbed it with its front paws and sat back, nibbling as if it was a giant bagel.
    â€œWhat should I do?” she whispered. The little mouse never stopped eating, ignoring her. “My mom is such a bitch.”
    Calling Amy was the only thing to do, really—Chloe could apologize for acting so weird after she and Paul had taken her to the hospital, thank her for it, then get into the nitty-gritty of how bizarre it was to be alive and discuss why she had survived. Amy would probably offer some explanation involving the supernatural or angels—useless but entertaining. Chloe smiled and picked up the phone, dropping Mus-mus carefully back into his cage.
    Seven long rings … Amy’s cell phone was on, but she wasn’t picking up. Chloe tried three more times in case the phone was buried at the bottom of Amy’s bag and she couldn’t hear it. On the fourth try Chloe left a message.
    â€œHey, Ame, call me. I’m—uh—feeling better. Sorry about the total rudeness today. I guess I was in shock or something.”
    She tried her at home.
    â€œOh, hello, Chlo-ee!” Mrs. Scotkin answered. There was a pause; she must have looked at a clock. “Happy sixteenth birthday in six hours!”
    Chloe smiled despite herself. Amy must not have told her anything. “Thanks, Mrs. Scotkin. Is Amy around?”
    â€œNo—I think she’s working on the Am civ project with her group tonight. Try her cell.”
    I did, thanks.
“Okay, I will. Thanks, Mrs. Scotkin.”
    Chloe frowned. She went to the computer and checked all of Amy’s aliases, but none of them were on. Maybe she really was doing homework? Nah. Paul was on but afk—Chloe didn’t really feel like talking to him anyway. She needed
Amy.
She had almost died. It would be her birthday in four hours. Her mom was crazy. And she was All Alone.
    She wandered around her room, picking up little things—pieces of bric-a-brac, stuffed animals—and putting them