I lean back, hoping to God he can’t see the answer on my face. He can barely handle the idea of me having a boyfriend. I can only imagine what he’d do if he found out I just had sex.
“I’m just a little hot. I think I’m going to go turn the air conditioning up.” I round the kitchen island, heading for the thermostat in the hallway. When I reach it, I don’t turn the air up, since I’m not really that hot.
I slump against the wall and take a minute to collect myself. I’m just about to go back into the kitchen when my phone vibrates. I dig it out of the pocket, so eager to read the message that I drop the phone on the floor.
“Shit.” I pick it up and swipe my finger across the screen.
Ayden: Hey, sorry I didn’t text u sooner. Things have been crazy.
Me: But she’s ok, right? I mean, your sister?
Ayden: I haven’t seen her yet . . . I guess she had a broken arm that needed an operation. But the doctors said she should be fine. At least physically.
I squeeze my eyes shut as tears sting my eyes. Poor Sadie. I can’t believe people can be so cruel, so brutal, so ugly. The only thing that gets the tears to stop is that I remind myself there’s also wonderful, amazing, beautiful stuff in the world. That not everything is bad.
Me: Where did they find her?
Ayden: That’s the strange part. She actually showed up at the police station.
Me: What???
Ayden: Yeah, she walked in and said who she was and that they let her go. Then she passed out. I guess the police had just raided the house she was being kept at and someone took off with her before she was found, but then they just dropped her off at the police station . . . It’s so weird.
Me: That is really weird. Maybe the person who left her at the police station just panicked or something.
Ayden: Maybe. I don’t have all the details yet, but I should be talking to the detective soon. Hopefully, he won’t try to pull that secretive shit and keep me in the dark about stuff.
Me: Let me know how it goes. And come see me as soon as you get home. I know it’s only been a few hours since you left, but I miss you. I’m seriously going to turn into one of those needy girlfriends.
Ayden: I miss you too. I wish you were here with me. I’d probably be a lot more relaxed.
Me: I can try to relax you when you when you get back.
Ayden: That sounds nice.
Me: Good. It’s a date then.
For a split second, everything feels like it’s going to be all right. Then another message pings through.
Ayden: I have some bad news, though. The police made a lot of arrests, but as of now, they haven’t found my dad.
My fingers constrict around the phone. “Dammit.”
Me: What are they going to do?
Ayden: Keep looking for him. And I have to be watched by an officer at all times until they find him.
My head slumps forward. I was so hopeful this was coming to an end, that Ayden was finally safe. But he’ll never be until his dad’s behind bars.
Me: I’m sorry, Ay. I really am.
Ayden: I hate this.
Me: So do I. But they have to be closer to finding him, right? If they’ve found all those other people.
Ayden: I hope so . . . I just really want this to all be over.
Me: Me too.
Ayden: I have to go. The detective just showed up. Call u when I’m headed home. I love u.
Me: I love u too.
With a heavy heart, I tuck the phone away and walk into the kitchen. Most of the plates and cups have been picked up and the air smells of lemon cleaner. Kale, Everson, and my dad have wandered off somewhere, but Fiona is at the table, munching on a cupcake.
“He’s still sad,” she remarks as I join her at the table.
I grab a cupcake off a platter and lick off a bite of frosting. “Who’s still sad?”
She plucks a candy off the top of the cupcake and pops it into her mouth. “Ayden.”
I peel the wrapper down and take a bite of the cake. “I don’t think he’s sad. Just stressed out.”
“No, he’s sad.” She sets the cupcake on the table. “He’s sad over his sister. And over you.”
I freeze, mid bite. “Over me?”
She nods. “He’s sad because he thinks he’s going to lose you because he can’t do stuff with you.”
“Did you hear him say that?” I ask, trying not to get wigged out by her matter-of-fact attitude.
She simply shakes her head. “Nope, I felt it.”
“You say that a lot. But I’m still not sure what you mean.”
“It’s hard to explain. And you probably wouldn’t believe me if I tried.” She sits back in her chair and picks up the cupcake again. “My mom knew about me, though. It’s why she gave me up. Because I was a weirdo.”