“Stay here,” she said, quieter now. She tucked a few extra quarters into my pocket. “If you get hungry, use these.”
I nodded, clutching the candy bar in both hands.
“When it gets dark, someone will find you.”
And then?—
She walked away.
I waited.
I nibbled at the candy bar slowly, careful not to drop any pieces. I didn’t want to make a mess. I didn’t want to be a problem. My fingers still got sticky, so I wiped them on the back of my legs, because she hated when I wiped them on my clothes.
My legs swung from the chair, not quite long enough to touch the floor. I watched the door. Every time it opened, I looked up, hoping she’d be there.
She never was.
People passed by. Some smiled. Most didn’t. The old man was taken away eventually, wheeled out by someone in a matching top and bottom that looked like pajamas. Then I was alone.
A woman in a pale blue shirt came over and crouched in front of me. “Are you okay, sweetheart?”
I nodded quickly. My mother had told me not to talk to anyone. I wasn’t supposed to speak. Just wait.
She asked a few more questions I didn’t answer. Then she placed a warm hand on my back and said she was going to help me. She gave me juice and asked if I wanted to lie down.
But I didn’t. I sat there, waiting—long after the candy was gone, and the quarters were forgotten in my pocket.
My mother never came back.
That was the last time I saw her.
Tears rolleddown my cheeks with a sharp, familiar ache. Like something had splintered inside me and never healed quite right.
I looked down at the ring still stuck on my finger—clinging to skin it had no right to touch.
All I could think about were those red heels clicking away down that long, shiny hallway.
I shoved off the ground, my feet hitting the floor harder than I meant them to. I wouldn’t do this tonight. I wouldn’t spiral.
The ice cream was left abandoned on the counter, soft and unappetizing. I picked it up and tossed it into the trash.
Then, without thinking, I grabbed the soap, pumping a few drops onto my hand.
“Shit,” I yanked at the ring, but it still wouldn’t move.
I let out a breath, defeated, and gripped the edge of the counter.
PING!
The sound shot like a thunderclap through my silent apartment.
I glanced toward the small table by the door, where I’d thrown my phone when I’d arrived home. The screen glowed in the darkness, yet I already knew who it was before even reading the text.
John:I’m coming over. I’m worried about you.
My chest instantly tightened.Shit!
I unlocked my phone, fingers trembling in my urgency to type out a message.
