The Bad Sister. Kevin O'Brien

he finishes up at the rec center.”

      “Well, that’s wonderful,” Ellie said.

      “I’m taking your advice and not overanalyzing it.” Diana gave her a curious, sidelong look. “What were you and Hannah O’Rourke talking about? From where I stood, things looked pretty intense.”

      “We were just talking about her sister—and her roommate.”

      “Who’s her roommate?”

      “Rachel Bonner.”

      “Hannah’s roommate is Rachel Bonner?” Diana uttered an ironic laugh. “Well, that’s a position I wouldn’t want to fill.”

      “Why would you say that?”

      Diana shrugged. “I just figure it might be bad luck. Rachel’s roommate last year was Kayla Kennedy . . .”

      “Was that her name?” Ellie asked. “I knew Rachel had a hand in getting her roommate a scholarship.”

      “Don’t you know the rest of the story?”

      “I guess not,” Ellie admitted.

      “Kayla was from outside Sheboygan, not too well off, the only child of a struggling single mom. You get the picture. Anyway, a couple of years ago, Kayla was riding her bicycle—she was a big bicyclist—she was crossing abridge when she saw a car spin out of control. It crashed through the guardrail and plunged into the water. Kayla came to the rescue just as the car was sinking. She dove into the water and saved the passengers—a young mother and a toddler. She was a hero. It was big news. It was in all the papers.”

      Ellie wondered how come she didn’t know about it. She must have been dealing with the arson investigation at the time. “Did Rachel Bonner know her?” Ellie asked.

      “No, but I guess she read about her, and the next thing you know, Kayla Kennedy had a full-paid scholarship to Our Lady of the Cove, and for her freshman year, she was sharing a bungalow with Rachel Bonner.”

      Ellie realized that it must have happened the same way for Hannah and Eden O’Rourke. Rachel must have read about them, and then set up the scholarships and the same living arrangements she’d had with Kayla Kennedy.

      She frowned at Diana. “So why is that bad luck?”

      “Well, because Kayla Kennedy’s dead. She was killed in a bike accident over the summer.”

      Dumbfounded, Ellie just stared at her.

      Diana winced a bit and then nodded. “That’s what I mean when I say, being Rachel Bonner’s roommate isn’t a position I’d want to fill.”

      CHAPTER TEN

      Wednesday, 3:12 P.M.

      Hannah stopped by the small shrine to St. Lucy near the library. Rachel had been right. Practically every time Hannah turned around—especially in the older section of the campus—she found herself looking at a statue of another virgin martyr. After nearly a week at Our Lady of the Cove, Hannah barely noticed them anymore. This shrine by the library was yet another little garden patch with a stone bench. Amid the roses was a weather-worn statue of Lucy, who, like St. Agnes, was executed with a sword-thrust to the throat.

      Hannah sat down and texted Rachel:

      I’m headed home. Need to C U. It’s important.

      For the last six days, Rachel had been her best friend, her guide, her touchstone. Hannah couldn’t have survived here without her. Rachel was just like the “big sister” she said she was. She’d even helped Hannah get over the whole Riley heartbreak.

      Over the weekend, Hannah had sent him three texts. Just checking in, she’d told him. She’d expressed concern about his “family emergency.” In only one of the texts had she asked if they were still on for Saturday. She’d done her best not to put any pressure on him.

      The son of a bitch didn’t respond at all.

      Rachel said she’d done everything right. Hannah had shown her the photo of Riley on the boat deck. “Yeah, he’s a stone fox,” Rachel had told her, “but a lot of good that does you if he’s totally unavailable. This early in the relationship, he shouldn’t be ignoring you like this. I don’t care if his entire family is being held hostage by terrorists. The guy could answer a simple text. I say, move on! Why do you want to be with somebody who leaves you feeling this insecure?”

      Hanging out with Rachel had been a wonderful distraction. Alden had also helped her get over Riley. Hannah always got a little thrill whenever he dropped by the bungalow. Rachel had said Alden was gay, but as far as Hannah was concerned, the jury was still out. She hadn’t had the nerve to ask him point blank. Maybe it was because she didn’t want to hear the answer. It was too much fun having a little crush on him—and wondering if it was reciprocal. Sometimes, she caught him gazing at her with a certain look in his beautiful brown eyes, and it took her breath away. Or was she imagining things? Maybe it was just wishful thinking.

      The other guy who helped take her mind off Riley was J.T., a lifeguard at the campus rec center’s pool. Although the pool was indoors, he still had a gorgeous, dark tan. He was boy-next-door cute with a swimmer’s build and flecks of gold in his shaggy brown hair. So far, Hannah had gone swimming in the rec center twice, and both times, she’d caught him looking.

      “It’s his job to watch you, stupid,” Eden had pointed out. “God, vain enough?”

      J.T. was a junior, and according to Rachel, he’d slept with a ton of girls on the campus. But Hannah didn’t care. It was still nice to have an extremely cute guy noticing her. And it gave her extra incentive to go swimming and get her exercise three times a week.

      One man whose attention she didn’t appreciate much was Lance, the creepy janitor Eden had told her about their first night on campus, the one from the Sunnyside Up Café. Eden had pointed him out to Hannah during one of their rare outings together on campus. He’d stared at them, nodded, and smirked. For the rest of their walk to the O’Donnell Hall cafeteria for breakfast, she and Eden had argued:

      He was looking at you.

      No, it was you, Hannah. I’m sure he was checking you out.

      No, it’s obvious he has a serious crush on you. And I’ll be honored to be a bridesmaid at your wedding.

      Hannah kept noticing him again and again—all over the campus. He was usually operating a leaf-blower, but other times, he just seemed to be lurking. Hannah had a feeling he was the one prowling outside her bedroom window in the thunderstorm on her first night in bungalow twenty. Rachel maintained he was quite harmless. Lance had an on-again-off-again thing going with a divorcée in Waukegan. That was also where he lived—in a house with his mother. The property was owned by one of Mr. Bonner’s corporations. Rachel rented the place to them for some ridiculously cheap price. It was practically like charity. Lance’s mother, Alma, was Rachel’s cleaning woman and laundress. Once a week, she cleaned the bungalow—everything except for Hannah and Eden’s room. Hannah had run into her in the living room last week—a sullen, sixty-something, copper-haired woman who smelled like disinfectant. Around her neck, she wore a chain with a clunky-looking fake-gold crucifix. Her pale pink sweatshirt had a photo of two kittens on it. According to Rachel, Alma came by at least one other time during the week to pick up or drop off Rachel’s laundry. She had her own key. It made Hannah nervous to think that Alma’s creepy son had such easy access to the key to their bungalow.