Every touch.
Every little glance.
And I still can’t think about it without feeling something collapse behind my ribs.
I force myself to step back.
The need to run back to the main house wraps around me. I’m not here for a past long since forgotten. I’m here for my parents.
I take one last breath and turn, heading toward the main house.
Once inside, everything feels wrong. Especially when I walk into the sitting room and see my mother already there, standing. I freeze in place.
Why does she look so frail?
The better question is, why does she look the way she does? Hair slightly frizzed. Makeup smudged. Sweater slouching and off one shoulder.
Who is this woman?
This is not my mother, or at least, this is not a version of her I’ve ever seen before.
“Took you long enough.” She sighs.
I shouldn’t have come. This is a big mistake. I thought for a second she needed me, but it’s obvious that she has no plans to ask nicely.
“Mom, what’s going on?”
Before she can answer, the sound of a slammed door echoes down the hallway.
Heavy footsteps that sound erratic. Is someone pacing?
Then my father strides into the room, and I don’t recognize him either.
It’s almost like I’m in an altered reality. Because if my mother’s appearance is shocking, his is worse. His tie is crooked, and his shirt is untucked.
Don’t get me started on his hair. It’s a complete mess.
Rounding out the look are bloodshot eyes that are glassy and wild, darting around the room like an addict searching for his next hit.
He doesn’t see me at first. The man is too busy muttering to himself, running his hands through his hair. “Years of work—sabotage—what do they want? Why now?”
“Dad?” I step forward. “Dad.”
He whips around. “Victoria.” His voice is rough like he didn’t sleep. “Do you know what’s happening?”
“No,” I say carefully. “Mom called. What’s going on?”
He lets out a laugh—the brittle, unhinged kind you only see in thriller movies. “What’s going on? Everything is going on!”
My mother squeezes my arm. “He hasn’t slept.”
No surprise there. His hair was a dead giveaway.
My father continues pacing. “Someone is dismantling this company,” he spits. “They’re destroying us.”
I blink. What the hell is he talking about? “Destroying? Dad—”
He slams his fist against the wall, and the sound is so loud, I’m surprised the plaster doesn’t crack. “Someone is intentionally trying to destroy Danforth Steel.”
