Total pages in book: 112
Estimated words: 105734 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 529(@200wpm)___ 423(@250wpm)___ 352(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 105734 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 529(@200wpm)___ 423(@250wpm)___ 352(@300wpm)
I let the pantry door close and pour myself a cup of coffee instead.
“I can make eggs,” Mom offers.
“Sure,” I agree.
She gets up to follow my directive, not seeming happy about it. I feel a rush of guilt at asking her to cook for me. That’s a privilege I don’t deserve now. But since I’ve already ruined their millennium, I keep my mouth shut and wait for the food.
The silence that follows is restrictive. I wish there were something I could say to make them realize how important my work is. I know I messed up, but my intentions were good. I couldn’t let Danny’s murder go unpunished.
Mom slides a plate of eggs in front of me, and I thank her with a smile. I eat slowly, savoring the dish as if it were my last. Dad stares at his coffee cup, consumed with his own thoughts. When I finish, I push the plate aside, trying to think of the best way to approach this new problem.
“I think you should leave,” I say finally.
Dad slams his palm down on the table, causing me to jump. I half expect him to say something, to argue the point, but he doesn’t. Instead, he continues to glare at the coffee cup, letting his foul mood speak for itself.
“I don’t think it’s safe for you here,” I insist.
“I think you should go,” Mom says, returning to the table.
I look up at her. My eyes filled with tears. This is the worst possible outcome. If I can’t save my family, then what reason do I have to run? I won’t turn my back on my parents and allow them to suffer the same fate as Danny. If I can’t convince them of the truth, then I might as well go home to face the music.
“All right,” I agree, rising to my feet. “I’m sorry it happened this way.”
Both of my parents are silent. With a heavy heart, I return to my old room to gather my things.
CHAPTER 31
FRANKIE
I’ve put off the conversation about Brandon long enough. Three days after returning home, I go to find Marlena. She’s in the nursery, deciding what kind of decorations to put on the wall. She has an interior designer with her who is showing her wallpaper samples from a book. The two women are conversing lightly, as if there’s nothing wrong with the world. I interrupt them by knocking on the door.
“Frankie,” Marlena says, drawing me in. “What do you think of this one?”
She points to a sample that has alphabet blocks on it. I don’t care what she puts on the baby’s walls; that’s not a priority to me. But I can’t very well brush off something that’s clearly bringing her joy.
“What about this one?” I ask, pointing to the next page where there are simple blue and green stripes.
Marlena frowns. “I was hoping to come up with something cuter than that.”
“Will you excuse us?” I ask the designer.
“What is it?” Marlena wonders.
“I just need a moment of your time,” I say.
It’s rude to interrupt her when she’s with someone, but I need to get this out of the way. I’m scheduled to go out with Edoardo in half an hour, and I don’t know when I’ll be back. Marlena has taken to going to bed early and waking up early. I’ve been staying up late because of the work Uncle Gio has me doing, which means I sleep as long as possible during the day. I’m afraid our schedules will never align again, and I want to take advantage of this small window of opportunity to talk with her.
The designer gives me a tight smile. She’s clearly displeased that I’m not valuing her time, but she’s too polite to make a fuss about it. “I’ll be right outside,” she says.
Marlena nods apologetically. “What’s wrong?” she asks as soon as we’re alone.
“I wanted to talk to you about Brandon,” I begin.
“What is it?” she prompts, leaving me no choice but to continue.
“I lied when I said that everything was fine,” I admit. “Everything isn’t fine. I don’t think he’s going to classes.”
“What do you mean?” she mutters.
“When I stayed with him, he didn’t do much except go out to bars at night. He has three roommates who aren’t helping. They’re getting high all the time, and I could tell neither of them has a job.” As soon as I begin talking, I rush to get to the end. It’s best to just lay my cards on the table and let her sort through them. So, I quickly run through my experience at Brandon’s apartment, leaving nothing out.
When I’m done, Marlena sits with the news in silence. Finally, she pats me on the shoulder. “Thank you for telling me.”
“What do you think we should do?” I ask.
“I’ll talk to him,” she says solemnly.