Page 127 of Play Nice

Leda might have gone to Harvard, but Daphne’s the smart one.

“Roy!” Leda goes for the knob, but she doesn’t need to. The door flies open. The lights flicker off and on and off and on again.

The twin beds are stood up vertically, headboards on the floor, legs against the wall, with the mattresses perched precariously on top, stretching up toward the ceiling. They frame the word carved deep into the wall.

HOME

Leda grips the doorframe, leans forward.

Daphne comes up behind me. “What…”

“Roy!” Leda says, stomping into the room. She spins around to the closet. It’s open, and it’s empty. “He did this. He’s the one drawing on the walls. Not the demon. He exploits vulnerable people. That’s what he does.”

“Fair point. He does exploit people. But he didn’t do that,” I say. “He didn’t—”

I’m interrupted by banging.

Leda pushes past me and Daphne, barreling down the hall. She stops dead in her tracks.

“Leeds?” Daphne calls out, her voice tinny.

Leda, the most rigid person I know, collapses to the floor as if her bones have dissolved inside her skin. Just to witness it is so unnerving, I experience a sudden wave of nausea.

The banging continues, the pacing of the noise more and more chaotic.

Daphne grasps for my hand. I give it to her and allow her to drag me forward toward the puddle that is our sister.

We make it to her and see what she’s seeing. The kitchen cabinets fly open and smash shut. There’s no rhyme or reason, no cadence, no pattern.

“See?” I whisper, my chest swelling with gratitude, with affection. It’s showing them. It’s proving itself. “See?”

“This is…” Daphne says.

Leda gets up and staggers into the kitchen, closing each cabinet as soon as it opens, just for it to open again. Her face goes red. “It’s a trick! This is…there’s a machine somewhere. Roy. Roy put it in. He…Where is it?”

She goes on mumbling, attempting to rationalize the irrational. Now she’s the one opening the cabinets, but they close before she can look inside.

“We should get out of here,” Daphne says.

“Do you believe me now?” I ask her, more smugly than I intend.

“I…” She shakes her head. “I think…Leda? Come on. Stop that.”

Daphne steps into the kitchen. She reaches for Leda, trying to pull her away. But Leda is obsessive, and now that she’s intent on figuring out the mystery of the cabinets, she will not be dissuaded.

Her platinum bleached hair has come loose out of its tight bun. Her neck breaks out in red splotches that match the violent hue of her face.

“Leeds,” Daphne says, gripping her arm.

Leda smacks her. Backhands her across the face. It might have been an accident, but it doesn’t matter.

The cabinets slowly, simultaneously close themselves. The house is quiet. The demon quiet.

Daphne holds her face. “You hit me.”

Leda should say something. She should apologize. She really should. But she doesn’t. She just stands there breathing like she just ran a marathon.

“You fucking hit me!” Daphne pushes her.