Cold gusts of wind whipped through the playground. Laughter floated on its wings from where groups of children ran through the fields, playing in their heavy winter coats.
My head was drooped between my shoulders, my hands close to freezing where I had them wrapped around the metal chains. The tips of my toes barely touched the scooped out dirt, and I dug them in, slowly rocking myself on the swing.
I glanced up as a group of girls raced by.
Laughing.
Giggling.
My chest felt funny and my tummy hurt.
I looked up when a shadow suddenly blocked the sun.
A smile wanted to climb to my mouth, but I didn’t know how to make it shine.
“Corinne Paisley,” my grandmother said so softly. She knelt down in front of me and covered my freezing hands.
“Gramma.”
“Why aren’t you playin’, child?”
“They don’t like me.”
She frowned. “What do you mean, they don’t like you? You got the invitation. That means the birthday girl wanted you here.”
I quieted my voice. “They said I’m too slow.”
My grandmother huffed. “Too slow? You’re the fastest thing I’ve ever seen.”
I shook my head and clung tighter to the chains. “No, Gramma.”
My grandmother brushed her knuckles down my cheek, hooked her index finger under my chin, and forced me to look in her knowing eyes. “Why do you say that?”
That feeling in my tummy was back. It hurt and made me feel like I might throw up. “I couldn’t catch her, Gramma. I couldn’t catch Mama. I ran so fast...but I couldn’t catch her.”
My grandmother stood and stretched out her hand. “Come on, child. Let’s go home.”
10
Rex
Ijerked up to sitting. Darkness played against the walls, my bedroom lit with the faintest hue of the moon streaming in through the crack in the curtains. I blinked away the edge of sleep I’d been riding, shaking off the nightmare that drenched my skin with sweat, glancing at the clock that told me it was just passed three a.m. on Monday morning.
This time...this time, it wasn’t the dream that’d pulled me from sleep.
I tilted my head and focused on the faint sound that seeped into my room.
Crying.
That was all it took for me to throw back my covers and jump to my feet. I flew out my door and through Frankie’s, skidding to a stop at the side of her bed.
She wasn’t fully awake, just tossing and whimpering in her shallow sleep.
“Shh...what’s wrong, Sweet Pea?” I urged, voice a whisper as I was reaching for her, brushing back the hair matted to her forehead.
A flash of terror jolted up my spine.
She was hot.
