Series: Like Us Series by Krista Ritchie
Total pages in book: 177
Estimated words: 174544 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 873(@200wpm)___ 698(@250wpm)___ 582(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 174544 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 873(@200wpm)___ 698(@250wpm)___ 582(@300wpm)
“What was the question?” I had to ask, a ball in my throat.
“Does your head hurt?” Xander asked again.
“Not as much anymore,” I muttered. “I just can’t…remember everything.” I searched them for answers, but discomfort lied in his face and hers.
“Maybe that’s a good thing,” Kinney said.
Xander shot her a look.
“What?” she snapped, her cheeks reddening.
I’d never been that close to Kinney, but in three years, I figured our relationship might’ve changed into something better. Time heals all, right? Not that we were broken, but we’d never had a super strong bond like Sulli and Winona or even Jane and Audrey.
At the hospital, I couldn’t tell what we currently were to one another. Xander seemed to be harboring more under the surface than I could comprehend too.
“I’m just glad you’re…” Xander couldn’t finish, too choked up. I knew he meant, alive. He glanced back at Donnelly and took a deeper breath. Strange.
“That’s a given,” Kinney stated, wiping away her tears before they even fell. “And you can’t die that close to your birthday. It’s bad luck.”
I almost died? Or was she exaggerating?
Xander pushed hair out of his face. God, he looked so much older. It kept slamming against me.
So I just asked about our mom. “Do you know why I can’t see her?”
“We can’t either,” Xander said.
“She’s only letting Dad, plus aunts and uncles,” Kinney explained. “We overheard them talking. I think she doesn’t want to scare us.”
“Why would she…?” I trailed off, seeing Xander’s tortured expression and downturned gaze.
“She got beat up,” Kinney snapped, incensed, and she glared back at Donnelly like do something.
“Kinney,” Farrow warned from Donnelly’s corner. To which, he had to clarify to me, “Donnelly wasn’t involved with Lily’s assault.”
Kinney was about to retort, but Xander cut in, “We can’t, Kin. Don’t overwhelm Luna.”
Our mom got beat up.
Assault.
I imagined her face puffed. Eyes black-and-blue and swollen shut. Legs and arms in casts. My stomach lurched, and I sincerely hoped my overactive imagination painted a worse picture than reality.
She’ll be okay.
It’s not as bad as you think.
Farrow gave me those reassurances when I asked him after my siblings left. Still, it made total sense why she wouldn’t want many visitors. I feared having the real picture superglued to my brain, and she was saving us from that image.
As the elevator ascends towards the unknown, my good thoughts are more of a mixed bag, and anxiety still bears on me.
Moffy sees. “You okay?”
Great, now my memory guide is overly concerned. I like it more when he’s pissed about the Time Thief in my head. Plus, I’m angry too.
“Fine.” I chew on the corner of my lip. “Just thinking about Mom.” I was released from the hospital this morning, but they wanted her to stay longer.
“She’ll be okay.” He sounds certain. “I think she’s more worried about you.”
My memories. Everyone must be freaked. Honestly, every time I say the wrong thing or do the wrong thing, I worry Moffy is gonna think I’ve been body-snatched and a Variant Luna has entered his universe.
Or maybe that’s my fear talking. Because I’m fucking terrified that everyone will look at me and think I’m not me. And they’ll mourn the Original Luna that was put to rest when she hit her head. They’ll wish for her. Long for her.
Instead they get this subpar, mediocre copy.
My hands sweat, and I rub my palms on my jean shorts. Someone brought me clothes from home.
Home.
I don’t even know where that is. Not yet.
Numbers climb on the elevator panel. 28, 29, 30…
Each floor higher is another dollar sign. My eyes grow as the elevator slides gently to a stop at 33. “Is this the very top floor?” I ask.
“Yeah.” He leads me into a short foyer, a door staring back at us. “There’s no creative name for this place. We just call it what it is.” He already grimaces. “It’s a penthouse. And I know, I know, you’re going to think, what the fuck, Moffy? How could you ever?”
I’m already thinking it.
“But the townhouse burned down—”
“It burned down?” I gape, shocked, then sad. I fantasized about living there with my brother and Jane so much. “How?”
“Electrical problems.” He unlocks the door, then meets my gaze. “But we needed more space. I had Ripley, and you were my roommate.”
“We lived together? In the townhouse?”
“Yeah,” he begins smiling off my rising smile. I’m ignoring the grief that tries to tank my stomach—grief over the memories I’ve lost at the townhouse. I’ll find them. I have to. They haven’t been gone for that long.
Living with Moffy is something I really wanted to happen, but I also knew that I could’ve chosen Tom and Eliot. I also figured the townhouse was small. Would Moffy have even wanted me there?
“I lived with you right after high school?” I ask.
“Right after,” he says, still smiling. “Pretty much immediately.”