and you turned her against me. Those are just two reasons, Carrie, but when all is said and done, your biggest sin is that you have made me unhappy.
Jilly
P.S. Don't worry about Avery. I'm going to take care of her too.
Carrie screamed once and began to sob. She was terrified. Shaking, she leapt from the bed and ran to the sliding glass doors.
She grabbed a fistful of the drapes, ripped them out of her way, and looked outside. Then down. She saw the blinking red light protruding from the explosives, as evil and horrific as the devil's eye, and shouted, 'Oh, God, oh, God…'
She ran for the bedroom door, tripped over her shoes, and slammed her right foot into the bedpost. Pain shot up her calf.
Cursing, she continued on. She stopped short in the hallway just outside her door and called out, 'Is anyone there?'
Nothing. Not a sound. Too late, she realized she should have grabbed the scissors to use as a weapon just in case someone had been waiting, but Jilly had touched those scissors. Jilly, who had written the horrific, gleeful letter. Jilly, the psycho.
God help them all.
She edged along the wall to the spiral staircase. She was afraid to look down, afraid not to. It took her a good minute to get up
the courage, and then relief, sweet, sweet relief, made her weak because no one was looking up at her. Maybe Carrie and
Sara and Anne were all alone in the house. No, not a house now. A bomb.
She ran down the stairs, then raced to the judge's suite. She didn't bother to knock, but threw the door open and rushed inside.
The room was pitch black. Carrie couldn't even see her hand in front of her face. She felt her way across the sitting room,
nearly knocking over a lamp when her elbow bumped into the shade. She grabbed it, and finally got it turned on.
Sara was in bed. Carrie could see a form huddled under the blanket, but she couldn't see her face. The drapes were tightly
drawn. Carrie opened them and looked down. 'Son of a bitch,' she muttered. There it was, another blinking red light.
Turning, she slowly approached the side of the bed as she strained to hear the sound of Sara's breathing. She couldn't hear anything but the noise of the air conditioner as it kicked on.
Carrie gently shook her. 'Wake up, Sara,' she ordered.
She didn't move. She shook her again, much harder this time. 'Come on, Sara. You have to wake up.' Sara groaned.
She put her hand on Sara's wrist, feeling for a pulse with her fingertips. When she finally found it, she felt like shouting with relief.
Carrie knew what had happened. The food they'd eaten last night had been drugged, but because she had thrown up, she'd gotten rid of most of the poison. How much had Sara and Anne eaten?
She grabbed Sara by her shoulders and started shaking her. 'Open your eyes, damn it. Wake up, Sara.'
Another groan was her only response. Carrie looked at the clock on the bureau and saw that it was already one in the afternoon. Then she turned to the nightstand, and just as she expected, there was another envelope propped against the lamp with Sara's name written on it. The handwriting was identical.
Should she open it?
'Go away.'
Carrie jumped at the sound of Sara's gruff voice. She was struggling to open her eyes. Carrie stepped back as Sara rolled onto
her back and told her once again to go away.
'No,' she said. 'Keep your eyes open. You have to wake up.'
Sara heard her. She struggled to sit up but only made it halfway before she collapsed against the pillows. She focused on Carrie, awareness slow to penetrate.
'What… what are you doing here?'
'Listen to me,' Carrie ordered. 'You've been drugged. Do you understand what I'm saying? Please, try to pay attention. We're in trouble.'
'Drugged?' She shook her head. 'No, I don't take drugs.'
In her frustration, she shouted at the woman. 'They put it in the food, Sara. Can you understand what I'm saying?'
'Yes. You're telling me the food was drugged?'
'Yes, that's right,' Carrie said. 'Keep your eyes open. I'm going to get a cold wet cloth. Come on, Sara,' she coaxed. 'Sit up.'
By the time Carrie returned from the adjoining bath with a washcloth dripping with cold water, Sara had managed to pull herself up. Her shoulders were pressed against the headboard.
She looked at Carrie as though she was only just now seeing her. 'Why are you in my room?'
Carrie tried to put the wet cloth on Sara's face, but the woman knocked it away.
'We're in trouble,' she repeated. 'I have to go wake Anne. So you have to listen to what I'm going to tell you. Okay? Can you concentrate yet?'
'Will you stop shouting at me? I'm awake now. What kind of trouble are you talking about?'
'The house is wired.'
Sara blinked. 'I don't understand.'
'We're prisoners,' Carrie said. 'If one of us opens a door or a window, the house will blow up. Look at the glass door,' she urged. 'See the red blinking light?'
Sara wouldn't believe her. 'This is just some kind of sick prank.'
'No, it isn't,' she said. Then she grabbed the envelope from the nightstand. 'Open it,' she said. 'I got one too. Bring the letter
with you down to the living room, and I'll bring mine. Even if you can't believe it, don't open any windows or doors. Okay? Now I've got to get to Anne before she wakes up and decides to open a window.'
Sara nodded. 'All right. I'll meet you downstairs.'
She was opening the envelope when Carrie rushed out of the room. Anne's suite was at the opposite end on the same level.
She ran to it.
Anne wasn't in bed. Carrie could hear her in the bathroom. She was throwing up. Carrie went to the door and knocked.
'Anne, do you need help?'
She didn't answer her. Carrie tried again and again.
She didn't know how long she stood there pounding on the door. Finally, Anne opened it.
The frail woman looked green. 'What do you want?' she asked. She was swaying on her feet.
'Let me help,' Carrie said. She put her arm around her waist, thinking it was the size of a pencil, and helped her back to bed.
'You should stay away from me,' Anne said, her voice weak. 'I've got some kind of a bug. Now you'll get it.'
'No,' Carrie said. 'You don't have a bug.' She was all but carrying the woman across the room. When she reached the bed,
she pulled the sheet back and helped Anne sit down.
'I was up half the night, throwing up,' she said. 'Of course I have a bug. It's probably just one of those twenty-four-hour viruses.'
There wasn't an envelope on Anne's nightstand. 'You were up all night?' she asked as she helped the woman into bed. 'Did you hear anyone… see anyone?'
