“Hey,” I said, waiting for her to pause her soap and look up. “Can I pick up a shift today or later this week?”
Despite having seen her multiple times in the last few days, she gave me a pitying look I pretended not to see. She believed, like everyone else, that Mom had abandoned us.
It made me question my own sanity, if I’d imagined the whole thing. I worried the spell that made everyone else buy this ridiculous story might still suck me under.
“I’m sorry, Brynn,” Pearl said slowly, nose scrunching as she tried to look empathetic. “I was just about to call you... We may actually need to cut your hours down. The budget, you know...”
My heart sank. “Sure,” I told Pearl, turning to leave with a sigh. “I understand.”
At this rate, I’d never fix my phone. In light of everything that had happened, it didn’t seem nearly as important, but I still spent the whole walk home in a funk. My boots sank into the freshly fallen snow from the night before, making me sweat with the extra effort despite only walking a few blocks.
Too soon, I stood in front of our house, staring at the icicles hanging from the roof.
This late in the afternoon, Dad would be home from work, probably on the couch watching TV. It was Rissa’s turn to cook tonight. She might already be in the kitchen, while Olive would be in our shared bedroom. She wasn’t allowed to go out until she did her homework for the day, otherwise it never got done.
I couldn’t handle being around them right now.
Despite the snow, it wasn’t that cold today, so I headed toward the bench in the backyard at the edge of the woods. Brushing off the light dusting of snow, I dropped onto it. Warm sunlight tickled my face as I closed my eyes.
The whole setting was too cheerful.
Crossing my arms, I turned to scowl at the house.
The back door caught my eye.
It was open.
THOUGH ONLY A crack, it was enough to make me jump off the bench and race across the yard.
I hadn’t reacted in time with Mom. I wouldn’t make that mistake again.
Creeping up the stone steps, I peered through the one-inch gap.
“You know for a fact she’s not in Fiji?” It was Dad’s voice. That was his arm by the kitchen table.
“That’s our belief, sir,” a feminine voice replied. “We can tell you everything we know if you’ll sign here.”
