Total pages in book: 169
Estimated words: 167671 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 838(@200wpm)___ 671(@250wpm)___ 559(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 167671 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 838(@200wpm)___ 671(@250wpm)___ 559(@300wpm)
We’re safe for now.
One year ago
Leaning back in my seat, I take a sip of my Coke while staring at the piece of cake on the plate in front of me. It must taste delicious, I’m sure, but if I take a bite, that means the cake will eventually be finished, along with this day.
I don’t want it to end.
“It’s so delicious,” Mom mumbles, taking a small bite out of her cake, like she’s afraid someone will say something about it if she takes a bigger bite.
She tucks her hair behind her ear, the green mark on her face visible for just a second before she readjusts her shades.
“Aren’t you going to take a bite?” she asks.
I put down my Coke and pick up my fork, still glaring at that piece of cake. Just one day. That’s what it symbolizes. One day of calmness before the storm erupts.
But I don’t want to disappoint Mom either. I take a small bite and swallow it, waiting for her content smile to appear.
“Good, right?”
“Love it,” I reply, smiling back.
“See?” she says.
“Mom …” I mutter, putting down my fork. “I’ve been meaning to tell you, but I didn’t know when would be the right time. So I thought, why not on your birthday?”
She pauses, her fork hanging between her fingertips. “What?”
I suck in a deep breath through my nostrils before finally gathering the courage to pull the paper from my bag that I’ve been holding for too long, and I place it on the table in her direction so she can read it.
“I have a scholarship. I got accepted into Spine Ridge U,” I say.
Her eyes fill with tears, and she gets up to hug me right over the table, smushing both of our cakes, and it catches me off guard.
“Oh, I’m so happy for you, Ivy, I could scream.” I wrap my arms around her too. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
“This was my dream for so long. I didn’t know how.”
Or when it would ever be a good time.
“I’m so proud of you. You did it,” she murmurs into my ear. “And I know your dad would be too if he were here.”
I swallow away the lump in my throat. “Thank you.”
I almost feel guilty for telling her.
She refuses to let go. “You deserve this. And don’t let anyone, and I mean anyone, take this away from you. You understand?” Her tone suddenly got a lot more serious, and it brings goose bumps to my skin.
“I won’t,” I mutter. “But … I don’t want to leave you—”
“Don’t. Don’t say the words. If you don’t say them, it doesn’t exist.”
If we don’t say the words we want to say out loud, we can keep living the lie.
But we all know a lie is as sustainable as a self-eating void.
“You go to that school,” she says. “Whatever it takes.”
I smile. “I will.”
Present
I sit up straight from the sound of rattling near the window. I blink a couple of times to get out of my nightmares and back into reality. I don’t know how much time has passed. It feels like forever.
I brush away the sweat dripping down my skin as I look around, but there doesn’t appear to be anything here.
I yawn and get up, walking into the living room in only a bit of underwear and a white shirt. I lock the door to the bedroom with the key to make sure Cora’s safe at all times before I head to the kitchen. Bagel is rummaging with his bowl, so maybe he woke me up.
I fill it with more food, and he purrs with thanks. I turn around again but suddenly spot a figure sitting on the couch.
I freeze.
The person turns around, his face hiding in his hoodie, so I bolt to the button on the wall to turn on the light, but not in time before he’s already cornered me against the wall. My shriek is cut off by a hand covering my mouth.
“Shh …” The whisper is soft. Almost … friendly. “Don’t want to wake Cora.”
What the—
I spin on my heels.
The crazed yell I was about to throw out there is swallowed down as I stare straight into Max’s sweet eyes.
“You’re here …” I mutter, confused. “How—”
My words are cut off as I realize why.
The key he stole from me.
“I needed to know if you were safe. But then … I couldn’t leave anymore.” His Adam’s apple goes up and down as his eyes skid across my face, almost as if he’s looking for answers to questions I don’t understand.
“Do Silas and Heath know you’re here?” I ask.
He shakes his head.
“I can’t stop thinking about you,” he says, lowering his hand off the wall. “Even when you hate me, I still lie awake every night, wondering if you’d ever forgive me.”
“I don’t … hate you,” I reply, swallowing down the nerves.