Saving Phoebe Murrow: A Novel Read Online Free

resorted to what Dr. Sharma called self-injury.

    Isabel stepped out onto the veranda that wrapped around the front of their house hoping to catch sight of Phoebe, but she’d missed her. Her shoulders drooped a little. She took in several deep breaths of air, then a final long exhalation. She straightened, her hands on her hips.
    Was it really true, only four more years before her darling girl headed off to some university? The words Vassar, Columbia, Brown, and Stanford cycled through her mind. They were all possibilities, though the thought that Phoebe might live all the way across the country left her breathless. Then again leaving the East Coast for a place like Stanford might be a good thing. Especially after last year’s horror.
    She glanced at her watch, its single diamond glinting in the early morning light. A few more minutes before she had to leave for work. She lowered herself into one of the wicker chairs and closed her eyes. Her mother had taught her the value of prayer, and though Isabel didn’t place much stock in God, she did aim, each day, to be grateful for something.
    Today she expressed gratitude for the fact that mean girl Skyla VanDorn would not be attending Georgetown Academy. It didn’t seem altogether right that she’d wished for this last school year, and then rejoiced when she’d heard the girl didn’t get in, and now felt so happy that it was the case. No, her gratitude usually followed more positive lines of thought. But once she’d discovered the perfidy of Phoebe’s grade school best friend – Skyla’s attacks had been nothing less than vicious – she couldn’t help herself. Since there was so little she could do to protect her daughter, not having Skyla at the same school felt like a step in the right direction. The other steps, as she knew all too well, involved building Phoebe’s self-esteem and ability to defend herself. And they’d been working on that all summer long. Hopefully the sessions with her therapist, Dr. Sharma, had helped, as well as the talks she’d had off and on with Phoebe.
    Isabel opened her eyes. They landed on something lying beneath one of the bushes on the lawn. She craned her neck to see what it was. Then she stood and ran lightly down the steps to get a closer look. It was a brightly plumed goldfinch. Bloodied and mangled. “Oh, Hagrid, how could you?” She couldn’t help adding, “Please, God, protect my girl.”

    Fifteen minutes later, with a mix of trepidation, hope, and excitement, Phoebe joined a stream of students walking up the main drive of the leafy, manicured campus. The school, formerly a mansion, sat amid an entire residential block of Georgetown, all of it walled off from the prying eyes of neighbors and passersby. The red brick walls – some overgrown with ivy and moss, while others showed years of decay – had been constructed by the original eccentric and exceedingly private owner a couple of centuries earlier.
    The school’s carved wooden doors stood wide open and seemed friendly, as if beckoning students, new and old, inside. Also welcoming them was the recently installed headmistress, Miss Kendall, who seemed young compared to Phoebe’s former principal. This woman seemed approachable. Though Phoebe hoped there’d be no reason to approach her. Not like at Woodmont, where visits to the principal had been too frequent. All had included Skyla. The principal always wanted them to resolve “their issues,” but they weren’t her issues, she thought, and anyway, Skyla was so good at faking it.
    As Phoebe was about to pass by her, Miss Kendall said, “Hello.” Phoebe came to a halt and greeted her in a small voice. “Hi, Miss Kendall.”
    â€œPhoebe Murrow, right?” The headmistress’s mouth and eyes smiled. Phoebe nodded. “Welcome aboard,” the woman added.
    â€œThank you,” Phoebe said, impressed Miss