Page 32 of After We Fall

Finley shifts to the side table where the Bluetooth speaker sits adjacent to her phone. Using her cell, she turns the volume down.

After observing the cups game last night and the lip-synching tonight, I’m beginning to appreciate the value of enjoyable sobriety tests. Luke’s loose-cannon ways could teach me a thing or two. Meredith often instigates discussions with the girls about safe options for having fun. Maybe terrible singing accompanied by air guitar is the path to making good choices.

I peek over at Luke.

A proud grin breaks across his face as if he heard what I was thinking.

Brushing the hair off my forehead, I look away. Goodness. When was the last time I felt bashful?

I place my hands on my hips and survey the room. There’s always something to do. There must be something to do here. Bending over, I grab the edge of the coffee table and drag it to its original spot in the room.

Luke nabs Bianca’s attention, offers a chin lift to indicate the couch, and they slide it behind the table.

“Finley, are you okay?” Tanya asks.

A displaced cushion on one of the Louis XV chairs had caught my eye, but at Tanya’s concerned tone, I redirect my focus.

Finley’s shoulders hunch over as she stares at her phone. She snaps her head up and locks her blazing gaze with mine. “What did you do?” She whispers the accusation.

My spine stiffens.

“What. Did. You. Do?” Her eyes flash.

Every molecule of oxygen has been sucked out of the room, and no one moves.

“Finley. What’s going on?” I take a step toward her.

With a stiff arm, she shoves her phone a few inches from my face.

I can’t make out anything on the shaking screen.

“You told Marcus I didn’t need him?”

“Careful.” Luke utters his warning as his imposing body shifts closer.

A puff of air escapes my mouth, but I’m caught frozen in her allegation.

“You saw Marcus today and told him I didn’t need him?”

I clasp my hands in front of me and square my shoulders. “Yes. I did.”

Her face contorts. “Why? Why would you do that?”

“Because you’re a strong woman. You can stand on your own two feet.”

Tears fall as she pounds a text into her phone. “I’m out of here.” With her hair shielding her face, she squeezes past me.

Tamping down the rising panic in my chest, I stride toward the hallway after her. Footfalls of the others follow me. “Finley, it’s not that you don’t need Marcus. It’s that you don’t need anyone to tell you you’re okay.”

After entering her room, she yanks a large, tattered blue duffel from under her bed. She pulls at the zipper, so caught up in emotion it takes her three tries to open the canvas case.

One of the girls behind me gasps.

As I stand in the doorway, the impact of what I’m witnessing threatens to paralyze me. Is she going to pack? She can’t leave. “You are flourishing here, which is what I told Marcus. Finley, listen to me. You’re growing and learning, and soon you’ll be a force to be reckoned with.”

She turns to the dresser, jerks open a drawer, and scoops out the contents. “You don’t know me. You don’t know anything. I signed up to be here so I could sort some things and go back to Marcus.” She dumps the armful of her belongings in the duffel, then turns to open the next drawer.

Bianca slides past me into the room. “Girl, you do not want a piece of that man anymore.”