There’s a long pause. A manipulative pause. And I know she’s searching for the tender spots to dig her fingers into, forcing me to give in.
“Finneas, you never come home anymore, and your sister...” She fades out with a delicate sniffle. I hate that this immediately washes me in guilt. She found the spot she was looking for.
The words “your sister” will make me comply because I don’t have the capacity to discuss Clara with her and she knows it.
“Fine, Mother. I’ll be there. Alone.”
Chapter 3
Millie
“Don’t worry about it, sweetie.” My dad’s deep voice emanates through the car’s speaker. “Your interview is going to be great.”
I turn on my blinker and guide my 4Runner onto the main road I take to the museum. Usually, I would walk to work, but I didn’t want today’s humidity to make my hair any frizzier before my interview.
“Oh, Dave,” my mom says, her reminiscing tone cutting in. “Do you remember when she saved all those caterpillars that the chickens were going after? I still have nightmares about when they got loose in the house and I found one on my pillow.”
I wince. “Thanks, Mom. That was a sweet memory to bring up.”
“I think about that day all the time. I was very grossed out but so proud of you,” Mom coos. “Have been since the day you were born.”
The car’s brakes squeak as I pause at a stoplight. “Well, hopefully, you’ll still be proud of me after I try to convince a board of directors and a few department heads that I deserve this job.”
Dad hums thoughtfully. “If you need me to come down there and talk some sense into them—”
“No,” I interrupt. “I definitely don’t need you telling anyone to hire me. I trust their decisions.”
Mom sighs. “You say the word, and we’ll be on our way. We’ll round up your sisters too.” The thought warms my heart. They would totally do it. Abandon the family farm and drive an hour just to stand up for me.
“I appreciate it, but I really want to get this job all on my own. Not because my parents made a ruckus in the museum,” I tease.
“Okay, sweetie. Don’t worry about anything and remember how special you are,” Mom reminds me.
I roll my eyes. “Thanks. I’ll be sure to tell them you said I amspecial.” My blinker ticks through the car as I turn into the museum parking lot.
“And we are always proud of you,” Dad says firmly.
A smile tugs at the corners of my mouth. “I love you both,” I tell them before grabbing my phone from the console to end the call.
As I press my thumb to the screen, the phone slips from my fingers and drops below my feet with athud. “Shit,” I spit out, leaning down as far as I can to grab it while keeping one eye on the pavement in front of me. I slam on the brake when an SUV rolls into my path, and a sharp crack splits through the quiet car.
That sounded suspiciously like my phone screen.
“Fuck.” Let’s see how many more curse words this morning can pull from my lips. I glance up once and see the SUV’s brake lights, so I duck my head, lift my foot from the brake pedal, and slide my phone out from under it.
The silence in my car ends with a loudcrunch, and my forehead knocks into the dashboard as I collide with the car in front of me.
“Shit. Fuck. Damn it,” I growl, aggressively sliding the gearshift into park and rubbing my hand over my forehead to calm the ache.
Of all the mornings.
How is a woman supposed to impress in an interview with this kind of start to the day?
I raise my head a centimeter at a time. Just as the hood of my car comes into view, my stomach drops as my eyes land on the other driver.
He’s doing his Kylo Ren impression, storming toward me with a scowl so tight that he might crack his teeth. His dark hair blows with the force of his steps as fury oozes off him, permeating the parking lot.
Those eyes are the fiercest I’ve ever seen them, glaring lasers through my windshield like I’m the enemy force he’s been sent to obliterate.
