After a second, he gives a stiff nod. “Of course. Go get some air. Just, ah ... just remember I’m here when you get back.”
A lump swells in my throat. It’s exactly what I needed to hear. Exactly the reminder I needed. I’m lucky. I’m happy. I have a good life.
“Thank you, Dad.”
I’m already outside, hard pavement under my shoes and cold air tickling my skin, when I realize what I just said. I called him Dad. Out loud. To his face. Heismy dad, and he’s here for me.
I’ll find my balance again.
It’s all good.
Tamping down the unease flaring in my core, I pick up my pace, and I run.
Hunt
“Please, it’s me. Mom ... I’m not him.” I refuse to behim.
It’s a miracle I kept my voice from cracking that time, especially while she’s slapping my chest, her usually gentle eyes harsh with fury and distrust. But mostly, confusion. My jaw hardens with the effort it takes to keep myself together. It’s too late, I recognize that, but I won’t stop trying.
The next time she goes to hit me, I catch her small hands in mine. They tremble viciously, and a sucker punch lands straight in my gut when she screams, “Help! Please! Joshua ...” Her gaze darts around the room, frantic. “Where is my Joshua?”
Right here.
I’m right here.
“Mom ...” This time, I can’t help the break in my voice. The pressure in my throat. The damn toxicity filling my lungs at the way she’s looking at me. Like I’mhim. Like I could ever hurt her.
At least one nurse is already in the room—I heard her approach right after Blue left—and now, more footsteps approach from behind. More screaming—this time, Mom’s voice and the nurses’ pleas blending together, slashing across my eardrums like explosions as they try to calm her down.
“Miss Riley, please—”
“It’s okay, you’re okay—”
“No! I don’t want him here!”
A hand clasps my shoulder, gentle but firm. Urging me to leave. But my body is a hollow shell.
“Mom?” Towel-drying my hair, I follow the bitter, singed scent into the kitchen. What the hell? “Mom!”
What was she doing cooking? She knows I take care of our meals so she doesn’t have to. I’m already in motion, using the towel to swat some of the smoke away before turning off the oven.
“Where are you?” I shout over the high-pitched ring suddenly piercing the room.Little late now, crap-ass smoke alarm.Coughing, I push open the nearest windows. When that doesn’t help, I prop open the front door.
It’s the sound of an engine that whips my head toward the black Volvo in our driveway. The same Volvo I hid the keys to after reading enough scary shit online. I didn’t want Mom to become one of those stories—the ones where people find their ill loved ones sitting behind the wheel, knuckles white and eyes frantic. Exactly how Mom is now.
My chest thunders as I stare at her. She didn’t even close the car door after getting in.
“Mom ... please, come inside.” My voice is low, cautious, just like my movements as I carefully make my way closer.
“But ... I’m going somewhere.” She frowns, looks down at her grip strangling the wheel. “I was going somewhere, wasn’t I?”
“Yeah.” I take another step, then another. “You were just parking the car, right? So you can come inside?”
She slowly nods, but the confusion in her eyes makes my pulse race faster, my steps quicker.
“That’s right. Yes. I’ll be right in.”
I reach for her the same instant she hits the gas pedal. The hood of the car crashes into the garage door, and she lets out an ear-piercing shriek, jerking away from the seat.
