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"Gisselle wanted me to get a record out of the box stored in Abby's closet," she said meekly. "She's loaning it to one of the girls from B quad."
I turned my back as she came into the room and knelt down to search through the boxes on the closet floor. She quickly located what she wanted and started out. Then she stopped in the doorway and turned back to me.
"I'm sorry about Abby," she said. "I didn't expect something like this would happen."
"Well what did you expect would happen when someone is exposed like that in front of all those people? And why? What did she ever do to you or to any of the other girls to deserve that?"
Samantha looked down.
"How did my sister find out about her?" I asked after a moment. "Did she listen at the door to our conversations?" Samantha shook her head. "Well, how then?"
Samantha gazed to her right first before turning back to answer.
"When she came in here to get something else of hers that Abby was keeping in her closet, she looked at her letters from her parents," Samantha revealed. "But please don't tell her I told you. Please," she begged, real fear in her eyes.
"Why, what will she reveal about you?" I asked sharply. Samantha's anxiety made her eyes wide and her otherwise cherry cheeks white.
"You shouldn't have told her anything about yourself you didn't want anyone to know," I chastised.
Samantha nodded, that piece of advice coming too late. "Anyway," she said. "I'm sorry about Abby."
I wasn't in a forgiving mood, but I saw she was sincere, so I nodded. She stood there a few more moments and then hurried away.
Shortly afterward, Abby's parents arrived.
"Mrs. Tyler," I cried, jus ping to my feet when she and her husband appeared in the doorway. "How's Abby?"
"She's just fine" Mrs. Viler said, her face firm, her lips tight. "My daughters got more grit in her than anyone else at this precious school," she added bitterly. Abby's father shifted his eyes from me quickly.
"I must go to her, Mrs. Tyler. She must know I nothing to do with this horrible incident."
Mrs. Tyler raised her eyebrows. "It was your twin sister who did the dirty work, as I understand," she said.
"Yes, but we're two different people, even though we are twins, Mrs. Tyler. Abby knows that."
I saw from the way she gazed at her husband that Abby had said that too.
"Where are her things?" Mrs. Tyler demanded.
"Everything's set aside. All of her things are there." I pointed to where I had organized everything. Her father looked grateful. "How can I talk to her? When can I see her?"
"She's in the car outside," Mr. Tyler revealed.
"Abby's here?"
"She didn't want to come in here with us," her mother said.
"I don't blame her," I said as I hurried past them and out. In the lobby the girls were keeping their comments under their breaths while Abby's parents were in the building. Even Gisselle's voice was subdued. I didn't pause to look at them. Instead, I rushed out the front door. I saw Abby sitting in her parents' automobile and hurried down the steps and over to it. She rolled down the window as I approached.
"Hi," I said.
"Hi. I'm sorry I kept running away from you last night, but I just couldn't stop once I had started. All I wanted to do was get out of there."
"I know, but I was so worried about you. Miss Stevens went driving around looking for you, because Mrs. Ironwood wouldn't let me leave the grounds."
She smirked and muttered, "The Iron Lady."
"Where were you?"
