Total pages in book: 77
Estimated words: 71814 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 359(@200wpm)___ 287(@250wpm)___ 239(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 71814 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 359(@200wpm)___ 287(@250wpm)___ 239(@300wpm)
My dad was in sales when I was growing up, so I doubted he had any knowledge about the investigation. But knowing my mom was just as good, and if there was some sort of secret hiding space in the house, he had to know where it was.
Maybe they used to hide my Christmas and birthday gifts there.
When I got into my car, I turned on the engine and then froze with my hands on the wheel, unable to move my foot off the brake. I knew what came next. I had to drive through town until I reached Hardy Road. Then, I had to take a right where the laundromat was on the corner. Next was another left a quarter mile down the road to turn onto Twin Lakes Drive where my childhood home was, the third house on the left.
My stomach flipped as I mapped out the whole drive, attempting to prepare myself for what came next. I didn’t even know what my dad looked like anymore.
I was a terrible daughter.
My eyes closed as my head lowered, guilt seeping beneath my skin and into my soul. He was still struggling with his grief when I left this town behind, and I was a selfish, weak person for doing that.
But I couldn’t handle it. I couldn’t deal with my sadness while also feeling smothered by his at the same time. It suffocated me to the point that I couldn’t even breathe in that house.
I squeezed my eyes shut for a second before releasing a slow exhale, my entire body wilting like a dying plant. As nervous as I was to go back there and face my dad, I had to do it. This case depended on my ability to face my past, and I refused to let everyone down.
Whether they were dead or alive.
So, I was doing this!
Gritting my teeth, I eased my foot off the brake pedal and pulled away from the fire station, leaving a place of comfort behind in exchange for a house of grief. Maybe things had changed since I was last there.
Or maybe everything was the same, and it was a shell of the happy family home it used to be.
Chapter 17
Zoe
The drive back home felt like it took an eternity. I supposed that was what happened when I decided to take the long way to give myself some time to think.
I chewed on my bottom lip as I drove through a quieter part of town, passing by an abandoned gym. Well, the building looked old and forgotten, but there were a handful of black cars parked outside. Perhaps it was being revived.
The town was losing buildings left and right, so bringing one back from the dead wouldn’t be a terrible idea.
I kept going, my stomach twisting as I got closer and closer to my area of town. Things became that much more familiar. The house with a white fence. The stop sign that people keep putting stickers on. I was home.
As I turned onto Twin Lakes Drive, my heart jolted to an abrupt stop at the sight of my childhood home. My mom’s old house plants on the front porch were long dead and gone. The concrete walkway leading up to the front porch where I used to do chalk art was cracked and infested with weeds.
As I parked on the side of the road and got out of my car, I noticed that even the way it used to smell— freshly cut grass and blooming flowers— was gone. My steps became slow and hesitant as I neared the front porch, an uneasy feeling taking hold of me.
It was too quiet. Too still. Too dull.
This place used to be full of life. My dad would mow the front lawn, while me and my mom drank lemonade on the porch. I remembered how we would laugh and stumble up the stairs, trying to carry as many grocery bags as possible without making a second trip. All of that happiness and brightness was missing, leaving behind a sad, dark place that I barely recognized.
My eyes shifted to the front door, my depth of perception starting to warp as my head grew light. I just couldn’t believe that I was actually here. Granted, it was mostly for business, but it was about time I saw my dad too.
Maybe he had answers regarding the mystery that now lingered just beyond the front door. What was hiding inside?
After gathering up my courage, I walked up to the door and knocked a few times, flexing my fingers as my palm grew clammy. His car was parked in the garage, so he was definitely home. No turning back now.
Eventually, I heard faint thumps inside that had to be his house slippers knocking against the wooden floor. A second later, the lock unclicked, and the door swung open. My dad— or a version of my dad— stood in the doorway, blinking in surprise at the sight of me.