Sam pulls up, letting me get off at the intersection a few blocks from home.
"See you tomorrow!" Molly waves as the Honda backs away.
I turn toward home, the afternoon sun beating down on Henderson's cracked sidewalks.
The walk only takes five minutes but by the time I reach our small house with its peeling blue paint and chain-link fence, my headache has bloomed into a full throbbing.
I push the kitchen door open, expecting chaos.
It's Monday. Book club day. There should be half a dozen of Mom's friends crammed into our tiny kitchen, drinking coffee and debating whether Gus should've stayed in Lonesome Dove, or whether loyalty is worth dying for.
The book sits on the coffee table—the beautiful first edition Jordan gave Dad. Leather-bound, spine cracked now from being passed around. Mom had claimed it the week after Jordan gave it to him, teasing Dad that it was wasted on him.
"It's got romance in it, Bobby," she'd said, clutching it to her chest. "You'd just skim to the shootouts."
"It's a Western," Dad had grumbled. "It's my book."
"Then why haven't you opened it?"
Dad had no answer to that, and Mom had victoriously started the first chapter that night. Within a week, she'd recruited her book club, and Dad pretended to be annoyed even though I caught him reading over her shoulder twice.
Now it sits abandoned on the kitchen table. The sound of news on the TV—a tad too loud—filters in from the lounge.
Maybe they're catching up on some juicy gossip.
Not wanting to bother them, I head to my room—Advil, cold compress, maybe a nap before my shift—when I hear it.
Sobbing.
Raw. Heart-wrenching. The kind of crying that makes your chest hurt just hearing it. It's coming from the living room.
I drop my bag by the door, frowning. "Mom?"
I move toward the living room, my headache forgotten, dread pooling in my stomach.
That's when I hear my name. I freeze in the doorway, staring at the TV, gasping when Dad's photo flashes onto the screen.
"—funds traced primarily to a personal account, reportedly his daughter, Sabrina's college fund—"
He looks like himself and not like himself. Same crooked smile, same tan skin, same deep lines around his eyes. Underneath, the caption rolls:
LOCAL FOREMAN ARRESTED FOR INTERNAL FRAUD AT APEX ENERGY PLANT
My legs go out from under me.
I hit the edge of the couch, missing it, then slide to the floor. For a moment I can't hear anything over the roaring in my ears.
"No," I whisper. "No, no, no—"
"Sabrina!" Mom rushes to me, her face blotchy, her eyes swollen, lashes clumped with dried tears. "You weren't supposed to see that."
"Tell me it's wrong." My voice doesn't sound like mine. "Tell me it's a mistake."
She drops to her knees beside me, hands shaking when they grab mine. "We don't know, sweetheart. Drew just left here."
"Drew? What did he say?"
Mom sniffs, wiping off her nose with the edge of her sleeve. "He says the police suddenly showed up at the plant today and arrested your father. He said your dad didn't fight it, just… went, as if he knew. As if he…" Her voice breaks. "As if he did it."
