Total pages in book: 168
Estimated words: 162369 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 812(@200wpm)___ 649(@250wpm)___ 541(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 162369 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 812(@200wpm)___ 649(@250wpm)___ 541(@300wpm)
“Jesus Christ, she doesn’t have a brain tumor, Lily.”
“Well, they’re checking for one.”
My stomach sinks like an anchor. Penny has to be okay. I can’t imagine a world without her beautiful, special soul.
“I’m going to stay at Aunt Kirsty’s for a few days,” Lily informs me. “Her condo is closer to the hospital.”
The anchor sinks even further. “I’d rather you come home. This whole thing has me unsettled.”
“I already told Aunt Kirsty I’d be staying with her.”
After a few seconds of silence, she asks, “Are you okay, Dad? You looked pretty messed up when I found you with her.”
“Yeah…” I clear the emotion from my throat. “I was just really worried. It all happened so fast.”
“Why was her lipstick all over you?”
Oh, fuck. “She collapsed and was thrashing around. I had to grab her and hold her.”
My heart pounds as silence bloats between us. I’m terrified she’s ended the call and will never speak to me again.
“Lily?”
“I’m here.”
I wait with my heart in my throat for the axe to fall.
“You should try to get some rest, Dad.” Relief washes over me. “Chill out with your puppy. That’s why we got him for you, to cheer you up and keep you company.”
I don’t know whether to laugh or cry. That’s how people see me—as someone who can only find lasting comfort and companionship with a dog. They’re probably right.
“Call me right away if you hear anything from the doctor, okay? Or if anything changes.”
“I will.”
I end the call and stare at the wall, overwhelmed with confusion and helplessness. I’m worried sick about Penny. I should be at the hospital with her, comforting her and getting answers from the doctors. But I can’t do that without getting on Lily’s already suspicious radar. She was adamant that I stay home and I’m still not sure if that’s because she knows the truth and is trying to keep me away.
Shadow appears at my feet with a tennis ball that’s almost bigger than his head.
“Where’d you find that?” I stroke his ears. “Not such a great first day, huh?”
He follows me as I walk through the dark house. I stand in Lily’s doorway, remembering when it was a nursery full of hope. How it was empty for so long. How suddenly Lily was here.
And how now she’s not.
I drift to Penny’s room. Her sketchbook is on her bed, open to an unfinished drawing of a red cardinal in the snow. It looks strangely familiar. I shift my gaze to the vase and flowers from our picnic on her nightstand. Tomorrow, they’ll be dead.
I ache to hold her in my arms. To tell her that yes, I love her like the stars love the moon. More than the stars love the moon.
I love her for her, and I don’t want her to ever be anyone else.
Downstairs, the silence is screaming from the living room where we’d all sit every night, talking and laughing. And from the kitchen, where Kelley made me dinner for months.
Ironically, I’m exactly where I never wanted to be again. Alone, with only my dog, not knowing if the people I love will ever return.
I wander back to the bedroom and stare at the edge of the woods from the window. Penny’s Path, is what I used to call it. I’d give anything to see her emerge from the trees, smiling, wearing one of her silly little hats.
She’d say, “Here I am again…” And I’d say, “There you are…”
The house is quiet. It’s watching me. It recognizes me.
I’m the ghost here. I always have been.
Chapter 37
PENNY
“So, what are you in for?”
I raise my eyes from behind my book to smirk at a young girl with pixie-cut platinum hair who just entered my room. My attention goes straight to the silver ring in her nose and the faith tattoo on the side of her neck.
“How many times have you used that line?” I ask her.
“You’re my third roommate. Math it up yourself.”
My brows curve up. “How long have you been here?”
She sits on the twin bed across from mine and leans back against the maroon-padded headboard, mirroring my exact position.
“Too long,” she answers, blue eyes cast toward the ceiling. “Way too long.”
I close my book and put it on the nightstand. “Well, I won’t be here very long.”
Cackling, she says, “That’s what the other two said. Let me guess. There’s been a misunderstanding, and you’re not supposed to be here. Your doctor is an idiot and your parents are assholes. You have no idea why you’re here because you’re not crazy at all. You were just having a bad day and no one would listen to you, and now it all seems fuzzy, doesn’t it? Like a big, strange, horrible bad dream. Oh, and you thought this was some kind of Airbnb and you’d be getting your own private room.” She casts a side-eye glance at me. “Am I right?”