Page 37 of Don’t Open Your Eyes

Belinda held up two fingers.

“Second word,” Sybil said.

Belinda nodded and again put her cheek on her hands with her eyes closed.

“Not sleeping, um, asleep?”

Belinda shook her head again.

Annabelle knew and her stomach tightened. “Dreams,” she said, her voice wooden.

Belinda nodded.

“Blank, dreams, blank, come. Oh, What Dreams May Come!” Anita yelled, a huge smile on her face.

Annabelle’s blood ran cold.

Before

Annabelle had made her decision. She was going to keep the baby—and not just because Randy had responded favorably. In fact, she’d done her best to take him out of the equation entirely. If she was going to do this, it had to be for the right reasons, and she had to be prepared to do it alone, if it came to that. She knew all too well that men made promises, only to break them. Not that she thought all men were like her father, but if she’d learned anything from what he’d done to her mother and her, it was to always know how to take care of yourself.

Instead of waiting for Randy to find her a job, she’d already begun applying for marketing jobs that she could start now. If she was able to secure a few freelance projects, it would go a long way in helping her stay afloat. So far, nothing had gelled, but she would stay on top of it.

She grabbed her backpack and walked down the stairs. When she opened the door, Mrs. Miller was standing there ready to knock.

“Oh heavens, you gave me a start,” she said, laughing. “I was going to see if you were free for dinner tonight. I’m making a nice roast, and I thought you could use a home-cooked meal.”

Annabelle was touched. She was supposed to have dinner with Randy and James, but they would understand. “That’s so sweet. I’d love to. I’m going to stop by and see Mom after my three o’clock class, so I should be back around six. Is that good?”

“Perfect.” She turned to leave, then stopped. “Oh, I almost forgot, Mitchell said he found someone to help you. With your mom’s back child support.”

“Oh my gosh, that’s great!”

“Mitchell gave him the paperwork you left with him. Here’s his name and number.” She handed Annabelle a handwritten note.

“Thank you so much. I can’t tell you how much I appreciate it.”

“Of course.”

“See you tonight.”

Annabelle was relieved as she drove to campus. Her father definitely had the wherewithal to pay for everything he owed. Between the back alimony and back child support, it should be well into the six-figure range and would be more than enough to take care of her mother for a long time. She only hoped he wouldn’t put up a fight and delay things. She supposed she could get in touch with him, appeal to his conscience, but she couldn’t bear the thought of groveling to him. No, she’d rather put him in jail first. What would his wife think if she knew that her husband was capable of turning off his emotions so easily? Did he care at all about his new children, or were they, like her, disposable?

The ringtone that came through her Bluetooth ended her musings. It was her mother’s assisted living facility. She pressed answer on the screen.

“Hello?”

“Ms. Morgan?”

“Yes, is my mother okay?”

“She’s going to be okay, but I’m sorry to tell you that she fell, and we think she broke her arm.”

Annabelle’s heart began to race. “What happened?”

“There was a fire drill and she got up from the bench when the nurse turned around for a minute and tripped on the sidewalk. The ambulance just left and is taking her to Norwalk Hospital.”

“I’m on my way.”