The Abused Werewolf Rescue Group Read Online Free Page B

up!’
    ‘ Whaddaya mean? ’ Fergus protested. ‘ Don’t blame me, I wasn’t there! ’
    ‘You were too.’
    ‘ Was not. I haven’t been near your house since Saturday .’ During the silence that followed, I could almost hear Fergus turning things over in his head. ‘ Maybe it was Amin. Have you asked him? ’
    ‘No,’ I had to admit. ‘But Amin can’t get out at night. You know that.’ Fergus can come and go as he pleases, because his mother is usually at her boyfriend’s house. Amin, on the other hand, is one of eight kids. He can hardly turn around without bumping into somebody. ‘Are you sure this isn’t down to you, Fergus?’
    ‘ I swear to God .’ He was pretty convincing. ‘ Why would I lie? ’
    ‘Because you killed someone?’
    ‘ What ?’
    ‘By accident,’ I hastily amended. ‘I mean, you might lie if you killed someone by accident.’
    ‘ Well, I didn’t! ’ he cried. ‘ Jeez, Toby! ’
    ‘It was just an example.’
    ‘ You’re a really great friend, you know that? First you ask me if I left you in a dingo pen, then you ask me if I killed someone! ’
    ‘ By accident .’
    Fergus sniffed.
    ‘What about your brother?’ I went on, feeling more and more confused. ‘Could he have done it?’
    ‘ Who – Liam? ’
    ‘Yeah. He’s got drugs.’
    ‘Liam gave you drugs ? ’
    ‘I dunno. I can’t remember.’
    ‘ Toby, Liam never gives anyone drugs. He always charges for them .’ Fergus abruptly changed the subject. ‘ On the news it said you were in hospital .’
    ‘Yeah. I still am.’
    ‘ Really? How come? ’
    ‘I dunno. Because I was knocked out? There’s nothing much wrong with me.’ If I sounded a little absentminded, it was because the slap-slap-slap of approaching feet had caught my attention. ‘Ah – listen, Fergus, I’ve gotta go.’
    ‘ Hang on —’
    ‘I’ll call you later, dude.’
    I hung up just as the footsteps passed me by. It was a lucky break, and I took full advantage of it. Carefully opening the door a crack, I checked the adjoining passageway. No one was looking in my direction. There were people around, but they had their backs turned or their eyes fixed elsewhere. They were too busy and preoccupied to be worrying about a barefoot kid in a blue smock.
    So I slipped out of the office and began to walk, briskly but calmly, back to my room.
    It worried me that Mum might have shown up while I was away. I couldn’t think of an excuse that would explain my absence. In the end, however, I didn’t need a cover story, because Mum wasn’t waiting beside the bed when I returned. Nobody was. Even Pneumonia Boy had disappeared. The room was deserted.
    All the same, I realised that someone had been there. Envelopes aren’t like birds or bees; they don’t just land on pillows without human intervention. The envelope sitting on my pillow had ‘Toby Vandevelde’ scrawled across it – so my phantom visitor must have known who I was.
    Mystified, I picked up the envelope. It smelled faintly of antiseptic. There was a letter inside, addressed to the Vandevelde family and signed by a priest called Father Ramon Alvarez. I was pretty sure I didn’t know him. My mother isn’t religious, so we don’t mix with priests. Or nuns.
    To the Vandevelde family, forgive me for intruding at this time. Having read about Toby’s plight in the newspaper, I am concerned that you might not be fully informed about what probably occurred. There is a very good chance that Toby suffers from a rare condition that isn’t widely known or commonly treated, especially in the western world. I have a friend with the same condition, and he would be more than willing to discuss it with Toby. Before you take any further steps, would you consider calling me? We could arrange a meeting – for Toby’s sake, as well as for your own. If I’m correct (and I think I am), it’s important that you understand what you’ll soon have to deal with.
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