Total pages in book: 120
Estimated words: 116263 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 581(@200wpm)___ 465(@250wpm)___ 388(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 116263 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 581(@200wpm)___ 465(@250wpm)___ 388(@300wpm)
She helped the little girl get situated, then stepped out and shut the stall door.
She smiled in my direction, though I thought it had to have been the first time that she’d actually looked at me, because she flinched when she met my eyes. Eyes I should have kept hidden, but I wasn’t thinking straight right then.
She fought to keep the kindness on her face as she searched the distress on mine. “Are you okay?” she chanced. Her tone reeked of caution.
I swallowed around the ball of barbed wire in my throat, tamping down some of the desperation but allowing a small amount to remain. “I think I lost my phone, and I was supposed to call my mom and let her know when I finished breakfast and was heading to school. I’m going to get grounded again.”
I wrung my hands together, and the tear that streaked down my cheek was real.
Desperate.
A plea.
Her laugh was soft. “Oh, I remember those days . . . And we can’t have your mom being worried about you. I know how I’m going to feel when Cassidy is your age.”
She dug into her back pocket and pulled out her phone. “You can use mine if it will help.”
“Really?”
“Sure, it’s no problem.”
“Thank you so much.”
I tried to keep the anxiety at bay as I all but snatched it from her hand, and I rushed into the farthest stall and shut and locked the door behind me. There were only the three of them in there, but at least it was some kind of barrier.
I could barely control the shaking in my hands when I dialed my mother’s number, and there was no stopping my heart from bashing against my ribs as it rang and rang. Four times before she finally answered.
“Hello?” Her voice was cautious. Suspicious and hopeful.
“Mom.” I tried to keep the sob out of it, but I couldn’t.
“Oh my God, Aria.” It was a wheeze. Torment. Relief. “Are you okay? Please tell me that you’re okay.”
“I’m calling to ask you the same thing.”
The sudden silence was sharp. Acid dumped into my ears. Howls of warning. An omen.
“What do you mean?” It was the smallest whisper from her.
“Are you safe?” I whispered back.
“Is that her?” My father’s voice might have been muted in the background, but I could still tell that it sounded different from normal. A new cruelty woven into the fabric.
“Mom, I want you to get Brianna, Mitch, and Keaton and go stay with Grandma for a while,” I rushed, praying she would hear the urgency in my voice.
“Aria,” she begged, trying to turn it back on me, “tell me where you are.”
“Please, Mom. Just . . . trust me. Trust me for once.”
“Cal,” she suddenly cried out through a clattering and a bang, and I knew he’d yanked the phone from her hand.
His voice was cold when it traveled the line. “What lies are you spreading now, Aria?”
Sickness boiled, and vomit climbed my throat. “Dad . . . you have to fight the voices. Whatever ruthless, horrible thoughts and urges strike you, you have to fight them. It’s not Mom’s fault. It’s not Brianna’s fault. You know that. Deep down, you know that.”
“No, it’s yours.”
“Dad, please.”
“You should get home now, Aria.” His tone was detached.
Vacant.
As if it no longer belonged to him.
“Dad,” I pleaded one more time before the line went dead.
I shoved my fist to my mouth to staunch the cry that threatened to tear free. Horror barreled through my senses as hot tears streaked down my cheeks.
My family.
Oh God, my family.
Sniffling, I swiped the moisture from my face with my sleeve and tried to gather myself. Tried to make sense of what was happening.
The far toilet flushed, and the stall door banged open.
“All done.”
Light footsteps padded, and water ran in the sink.
Their voices were soft as the woman helped the little girl wash her hands.
A second later, there was a light tapping at my stall. “Are you okay in there?”
Wiping more tears, I sucked down the emotion the best that I could. “Uh, yeah, sorry, my mom’s just really mad that I lost another phone.”
I unlatched the stall and stepped out.
Sympathy pulled through the woman’s expression, and the little girl swayed at her side as she held her mother’s hand.
“These silly things cost an arm and a leg, don’t they?” the woman said.
My nod was choppy as I handed her the phone. “Yeah. Thank you for letting me use yours.”
“No problem at all. I’m happy to help. Hopefully, you can get yours replaced soon.”
I forced a brittle smile, and the woman led her little girl to the door. When she opened it, she called, “Good luck.”
The little girl shifted to look back at me.
My heart seized because it wasn’t the blue eyes that stared back.
They were the palest gray eyes.