I swallow hard.
I made her have a bad day.
“That’s my mom,” I say, pointing at the hotel door. Langford swivels to look, but she has her back to us now. “Thanks for waiting with me until she came out. That was nice of you.”
“You’re welcome. Bye, Lucia. Make sure you stay in school so you can become a library lady, okay?” he says, then turns to walk away.
“Wait!” I call after him. He faces me, and I jump off the wall and reach into my bag to pull out the packet of unopened Jelly Tots I have. “The green ones are my favorite. They taste like watermelon.”
“They’re my favorite, too,” he says, taking them.
“Do you think I should tell?” I bite my lip and lower my gaze, letting the question float between us.
He lowers himself to the ground so that we’re eye level and opens up the packet. The first one is green, and he holds it out to me.
“That’s up to you, Jelly Tot. When I had the chance to tell, and I didn’t, it was because I didn’t want to make someone I cared about sad. What I’ve learned since then is that people deserve to know the truth—the whole truth even if it makes them upset. Everyone deserves the chance to make their own choices and have their own feelings.”
“I think I understand,” I say. “I hope you get to be a detective, Langford.”
He winks at me before he rises to his feet and turns to walk to the car. I notice his name printed on the back of his T-shirt.
As they drive away, I can’t explain why, but I’m lonely.
I go back to sit on the wall again, swinging my legs as I stare at the sign and wonder if I’ll ever be lucky enough to see Langford again.
Another car pulls out of the parking lot. I let out a big sigh.
Now there’s only one car left.
When Mom walks back through the revolving doors, I know I’m not going home any time soon. And somehow, I think I know what it feels like to have a bad day.
TWO WEEKS LATER
I rubthe tiredness from my eyes and jump out of my bed.
It’s finally morning—and my birthday.
My bare feet hit the plush carpet and flex around the velvety fibers a few times, soaking in that cozy feeling.
Today’s going to be the best day.
I’m full of energy as I bounce out of my room and head to the landing, grinning from ear to ear.
I peek through the gaps in the wooden railings where some of my clothes are hanging over it, left there from when I got too busy to fold them.I spot Daddy standing in the foyer. He’s dressed for the day, but looking out the front door.
The mailman must be on the porch.
I cup my hands around my mouth, ready to call out to him and let him know I’m awake. That I’m ready for the birthday pancakes he promised me. Hope and excitement bloom in my chest.
Then three sharp bangs ricochet off the walls.
BANG!BANG!BANG!
The sounds crash throughout the foyer. My ears immediately start screaming in protest, my shoulders snapping up toward them in protection.
I squint against the commotion, a reflex I get when the sun’s too bright, but there’s nothing in my eyes.
I drop to the floor and lie on my belly. My jeans act as a shield, hiding me. My heart is beating so loud it sounds as though it’s right next to a microphone, its speakers pressed against the side of my face. I tell myself I need to be quiet. My stomach twists, the exact way it did at the hotel, sensing something bad is about to happen.
