Lying down on the twin mattress, I gaze up at the ceiling. When I lived in this room, Danny was still alive. I was still a wide-eyed teenager who looked up to him. I imagined we would do remarkable things together, that we would use some kind of sibling power to make the world a better place. But all that is gone now.
I close my eyes, wishing I could turn back time and make everything all right again. Blood thunders through my ears, a residual effect of so much stress. I let it lull me to sleep, knowing this might be the last time I can rest without feeling scared. Who knows where I’ll be tomorrow around this time. I don’t have a lot of cash on me, and I’m not sure if I can use credit cards. I’m ill-equipped to run from the law, much less from a group of criminals who want to track me down.
In the morning, Dad still doesn’t want to talk. I find them in the kitchen, still wearing their pajamas. Without greeting them, I help myself to a bowl from the cabinet and go hunting for the cereal I’m sure is in the pantry.
“Don’t you have any cereal?” I ask when I can’t find it.
“We stopped buying cereal a long time ago,” Mom answers.
“Not even granola?” I wonder.
“Not even,” Mom replies.
I let the pantry door close and pour myself a cup of coffee instead.
“I can make eggs,” Mom offers.
“Sure,” I agree.
She gets up to follow my directive, not seeming happy about it. I feel a rush of guilt at asking her to cook for me. That’s aprivilege I don’t deserve now. But since I’ve already ruined their millennium, I keep my mouth shut and wait for the food.
The silence that follows is restrictive. I wish there were something I could say to make them realize how important my work is. I know I messed up, but my intentions were good. I couldn’t let Danny’s murder go unpunished.
Mom slides a plate of eggs in front of me, and I thank her with a smile. I eat slowly, savoring the dish as if it were my last. Dad stares at his coffee cup, consumed with his own thoughts. When I finish, I push the plate aside, trying to think of the best way to approach this new problem.
“I think you should leave,” I say finally.
Dad slams his palm down on the table, causing me to jump. I half expect him to say something, to argue the point, but he doesn’t. Instead, he continues to glare at the coffee cup, letting his foul mood speak for itself.
“I don’t think it’s safe for you here,” I insist.
“I think you should go,” Mom says, returning to the table.
I look up at her. My eyes filled with tears. This is the worst possible outcome. If I can’t save my family, then what reason do I have to run? I won’t turn my back on my parents and allow them to suffer the same fate as Danny. If I can’t convince them of the truth, then I might as well go home to face the music.
“All right,” I agree, rising to my feet. “I’m sorry it happened this way.”
Both of my parents are silent. With a heavy heart, I return to my old room to gather my things.
CHAPTER 31
FRANKIE
I’ve put off the conversation about Brandon long enough. Three days after returning home, I go to find Marlena. She’s in the nursery, deciding what kind of decorations to put on the wall. She has an interior designer with her who is showing her wallpaper samples from a book. The two women are conversing lightly, as if there’s nothing wrong with the world. I interrupt them by knocking on the door.
“Frankie,” Marlena says, drawing me in. “What do you think of this one?”
She points to a sample that has alphabet blocks on it. I don’t care what she puts on the baby’s walls; that’s not a priority to me. But I can’t very well brush off something that’s clearly bringing her joy.
“What about this one?” I ask, pointing to the next page where there are simple blue and green stripes.
Marlena frowns. “I was hoping to come up with something cuter than that.”
“Will you excuse us?” I ask the designer.
“What is it?” Marlena wonders.
“I just need a moment of your time,” I say.
