“Hello?” Vi said.
“Is this Violet?”
“Yes.”
“This is Julia Tetreault. We met the other day in the woods. I’m the journalism student.”
Eric looked up from making a peanut butter and jelly sandwich. “Who is it?” he asked.
Vi shook her head. “No one,” she told him. “Wrong number.” Then she hung up, slamming the phone down into the cradle a little too hard.
The phone rang again.
“No one’s calling back, I guess,” Eric said.
Vi groaned and picked up the phone. “What?” she snarled into it.
“Please don’t hang up. Just give me one minute.”
Vi waited. “What?” she said again.
“I know about B West.”
Vi turned her back to her brother. She stepped out into the hall, as far away as the phone cord would stretch. “What do you know?”
“Experiments are going on down there. With some of the patients. You and your sister know about it, don’t you? She was telling me the truth.”
Vi was silent.
“Have you been down there? Have you seen it?”
More silence. Finally Vi asked, “What do you want?”
“I need proof, Violet. Records, photos. Without those, I’ve got no story, no evidence.”
“That’s what this is about? Your story? For some stupid college class?”
“No, Violet. It’s much bigger than that. It’s about finding out the truth.”
“And what good will that do?” Vi asked.
“If there are terrible things going on, and we get proof, we can bring it to the authorities. We can close the whole place down. Don’t you see? If what I’m hearing is true, this needs to happen, Violet. We need to do this.”
Wasn’t that what Vi wanted?
“Do you know how to get me proof, Violet?”
Vi bit her lip, thinking. Could this be her way to save Iris?
“Because if you do, we need to act fast.”
“Why?”
“My source at the Inn tells me B West is going to be shut down, all the records destroyed.”
“What?” Vi said. “Who? What source?”
“I can’t tell you that, but I can tell you that if we want to get any of those records, we’ve got to move fast. Something tells me we’re talking a matter of days here, if that.”
“Vi? Who’s on the phone?” Eric came into the hall with a peanut butter–covered knife. Vi put her hand over the mouthpiece and ordered him back to the kitchen.
“I’ve gotta go,” Vi said.
“Wait! One more thing,” Julia said. “Tell me your father’s name again.”
Vi paused, watched Eric grab his sandwich and go out the kitchen door to the backyard.
“Jackson,” Vi whispered. “Jackson Hildreth.”
“And he was a doctor? You’re sure?”
“Yes. A surgeon.”
The front door banged open.
Gran was home!
“I gotta go,” Vi said, rushing back into the kitchen to slam the phone down.