I turn the wheel, driving down the familiar road leading to her house.
Insecurity grips me again.
Her house is bigger. Nicer.
Why would she ever want mine?
I grit my teeth.
Stop.
Violet has never cared about that.
She didn’t see an old rental that needed work.
She saw our home.
And she helped me fix up my house, not caring about getting her clothing dirty or her manicure ruined.
I’m two houses away when I ease my foot off the accelerator.
I’m losing my nerve.
But then I picture how quiet my house is without her.
The way her voice and laughter no longer fill the rooms.
I turn into her driveway without using my turn signal. Something I’ve never done before. I’m a careful driver. Never had an accident.
I park my car and stare at her house for a moment.
And then I get out.
I run a hand through my hair, anxiety taking over.
You can do this.Just go to the front door.
But my legs are weak.
I lean against the hood, wondering what she’s doing.
Wondering if her sister is home... and what I’d do if she answered the door.
Callie seems a bit... unhinged.
There’s at least a 30% chance she has a shovel and an alibi ready.
You don’t even know if she’s home.
And that’s the problem.
What if neither of them is here?
I push off my car, pacing once before forcing myself to stop.
“Get it together,” I mutter.
I suck in a deep breath, staring at the house.
