“Where’s Daisy?”
I glance up at Finn as he approaches our table. Ivy leans back and points to where she’s on the phone.
“I’m gonna head back.” Ivy excuses herself from the table.
Finn’s expression warps suddenly. “Now? Why?”
“I’ve got some reading to do before the summer is over, and I’m tired.” She shrugs simply. “I’ll see you guys at home.”
As she walks away, she waves at Daisy to say goodbye.
An unsettling feeling flutters in my stomach as I watch her.
I suck in a slow breath as Finn claps a hand on my shoulder.
“Another beer?” he asks.
“Sure.”
CHAPTER 13
IVY THOMPSON
The next morning, I wake up to texts from Erin asking how being at home is. I smile at her caring nature and quickly give her the low down that JJ is staying with us for the summer.
A flood of texts comes in straight after, and I groan into my pillow.
Ivy:
I promise to call you later, okay? I’ll explain everything then
Erin:
You better. I want to hear EVERYTHING.
My lips continue to curl at her message, despite the fact my stomach churns at the thought of addressing it again.
As I glance around my childhood bedroom, a wave of nostalgia hits me in the chest. Even though I’ve changed it a thousand times over, I still remember the pink painted walls when I was seven, and the boy band posters when I was thirteen.
I definitely have a box of school memorabilia somewhere.
School wasn’t necessarily the best time of my life, but there were moments that made me happy. I mostly kept my head down and did my work with no questions asked. I wasn’t necessarily popular, but because Daisy was my best friend, that meant I was invited to parties with her.
After peeling myself from my bed, I rummage in my old cupboard to find it used as storage for my father’s pickleball hobby. I’m not surprised to see that he swapped out my stuff into the loft to make his stuff more accessible.
I step into the hall and stare up at the rectangular outline on the ceiling. I gently pull down the string and let the ladder fall into place beside me. My fingers latch onto the metal and give it a good shake—I’ve never trusted ladders.
My foot slides onto the metal ledge, and I move one step at a time. I peek my head into the loft, but everything is pitch black. I grip onto the ladder and press my hand to the landing to push myself up so I can stand.
But as I reach forward to grab the handle inside, my sock slips, and suddenly I’m falling. A scream echoes from my lips at how fast everything happens. My life literally flashes before my eyes.
My heart pounds inside my chest as I fly through the air, trying my hardest to grab onto something or tangle my legs onto the ladder. But it’s too late.
Seconds before I hit the ground, my arm scrapes down the jagged side of the ladder, piercing my skin. My back cracks beneath me, causing the floorboards to creak.
I groan and close my eyes at the influx of pain. My spine feels like it’s been snapped in two, as for my arm, I take a quick glance at it and study the crimson droplets falling towards my elbow.
My stomach literally flips. No. No. No. No.
