The Onion Girl Read Online Free Page B

have seen, and still this had obviously gotten to him. Maybe because it was personal, Wendy thought. Because it had happened to a friend.
    â€œWho could ever do this to Jilly?” he said. “Who could hate her that much?”
    His last few words were drowned in a general hubbub of disbelief and concern. Wendy glanced at Isabelle and saw the pained look on the artist’s face. They were all upset, but Isabelle, who’d lost most of her paintings in a fire years ago, was the one who knew better than any of them just how devastating this would be for Jilly.
    â€œThis is connected, isn’t it?” Sophie said. “To the hit-and-run.”
    Lou turned to her. “What makes you say that?”
    â€œI can see it in your face.”
    â€œYou think someone ran her down deliberately?” Meran asked. Her voice echoed the shock they were all feeling.
    No, Wendy thought. That couldn’t be true. It was just too awful to contemplate.
    â€œUntil we find the driver,” Lou said, “it’s impossible to say.” Then he sighed. “But it doesn’t feel right to me. First the car, now this business with her studio. The incidents are just too close to each other to feel like a coincidence.”
    â€œBut you’re talking about someone actually trying to kill her,” Saskia said.
    Angel shook her head. “No, they want to erase her. Her and her work … To make it be like she never existed.”
    â€œI don’t believe it,” the professor said.
    He took off his glasses and gave them a brief cleaning they didn’t need before putting them back on, his gaze fixed on Lou’s grave features.
    â€œNo, it can’t be true,” Cassie said. “How could it be true?”
    Lou just gave them all a tired look.
    â€œDoes she have enemies that any of you know about?” he asked.
    There was a long moment of silence.
    â€œThis is Jilly you’re talking about,” Sophie said.
    â€œI doubt she’s ever hurt anyone in her life,” Meran added.
    â€œCertainly not deliberately,” Lou agreed.

    On the other couch, Christy nodded. “Which would mean you’re looking for someone with an intense dislike for the relentlessly cheerful.”
    That woke faint smiles throughout the room, but they didn’t last long as Jilly’s friends considered the idea of someone hating her so much that they would want to cause her this much pain. Enough so that they would destroy her life’s work and deliberately run her down with a car.
    â€œJust think about it,” Lou said. “Keep your eyes and ears open. And if you think of anything that could help us, if you hear or see anything, call me. I don’t care what time of the day or night it might be.”
    7
    Once upon a time …
    I open my eyes and I can’t move. It’s not just because of the casts on my left arm and right leg. There’s no feeling under the leg cast. There’s no feeling in my right arm either. That whole side of my body is paralyzed and numb. It’s so weird. I can feel the fabric of my hospital gown and the bedclothes against my skin—but only on the left side. On the right, there’s nothing. I can move my head, stiffly, with an effort, my left leg, the arm in the cast, though that sends a shiver of pain through me.
    I remember how it was before, when Sophie was looking down at me. I couldn’t move then either. Now I know why. I remember the car and the impact.
    There’s no one in the room with me, but I can hear voices from nearby.
    I look down at my useless right arm, my hand, my drawing hand, willing it to move. I can’t even feel it.
    There are lots of fairy tales. I remember the professor telling me once how people need to be storied to get over their fears. We were talking about the elements of fairy tales and their relevance to the World As It Is, the here and now in which we all live. It was just the three of