Crimson Harvest

Heather took the phone from her father, her hand trembling and her eyes staring into her father’s face.

“H-hello?” she said softly.

“Hi! Hey, where did you run off to?” said Jillian’s voice.

“I . . . I came home,” Heather said. “What happened to you?”

“Oh, I went dancing with Gage,” was her reply. “Well, we started out to do that, then . . . well, we found a cozy spot to be alone. But Rich came in and ruined it all. Honestly, he was worse than Mom. Anyway, after I tried to find you, I figured that you must have already taken off, so I left.”

Heather’s brain was reeling. She felt so confused and puzzled that she did not know what to say. “But . . . what about your brother?” she finally asked.

There was a slight pause. Then, “He disappeared with some friends. He didn’t say where to, though.” There seemed almost a strange tone to Jillian’s voice, but Heather was caught by both a desperate desire for what she was hearing to be true and a horror too great for her mind to absorb.

“He’s okay?” she stammered. “And you’re okay?”

Jillian’s voice laughed. “Yes! Satisfied? And I want to stay that way, so don’t tell your parents about where we were tonight. They might tell my mom, and I’ll never have any peace.”