“Does he have a gun, or can he get one easily?”
My dad didn’t appear to actually be talking with the officer outside. His arms were crossed, and his mouth was set into a hard line instead.
My foot tapped against the floor, hands wringing together.
The officer said I wasn’t in trouble, but what if I was?
What if they took me away instead of my dad?
What if I didn’t see my friends again?
What if Ididsee my friends after this happened?
What would Hayden think?
A million questions swirled around in my mind, and my head started to spin, everything feeling light and floaty. I ran my tongue across the roof of my mouth, trying to get the tingling sensation to go away, but instead it just felt like I’d swallowed a mouthful of cotton.
Placing my head in my hands, I tried to think of something else,anythingelse. I squeezed my eyes shut, but I couldn’t breathe, hiccups rising in my throat every time I tried.
Get it together!
I swallowed the lump in my throat, rubbing my hands against my legs, trying to dry off the sweat before the officer came back.
Breathe.
Blood roared in my ears. My hands trembled on my knees.
I’m dying. That’s it.
No.
I focused on my breathing, inhaling for four beats, holding the breath, then exhaling. I repeated this over and over until my heart rate started to slow and the world around me came back into view.
I’m safe. I’m okay. We’ll be okay.
After what felt like hours, the officer came out of the bedroom with my mom. He told us to wait while he went outside to talk to the other officer.
“Are you okay?” Mom asked, putting her hand on my knee.
I nodded, even though my hands were still shaking a bit. I was putting on a brave face for her, but deep down I was terrified about what would happen.
“What did you tell the officer?” I asked on a shaky breath.
She didn’t make eye contact as she said, “The truth. I told him that we got into an argument.”
I wasn’t sure I believed her, but when I glanced out the window, the officers were putting my father in handcuffs.
“Mom.” I sucked in a breath, pointing outside.
We watched through the windows as the police cruiser drove away with my father. Relief flooded through me at the thought of him spending time in jail, even if he inevitably would get out later.
The feeling didn’t last long.
“Sierra, where’s your wallet?” Mom whispered, still staring out the window.
“What?” My face contorted, disgust rising in my chest. “Why? Don’t tell me you’re going to try to bail him out!”
“Someone has to. W-we can’t just let him?—”
