Total pages in book: 102
Estimated words: 94457 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 472(@200wpm)___ 378(@250wpm)___ 315(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 94457 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 472(@200wpm)___ 378(@250wpm)___ 315(@300wpm)
“What if I wake up in the middle of the night and don’t know where I am in my sleepy brain. It would probably freak me out.”
“Yeah, probably.”
“Then I would be screaming and waking up everyone. I just don’t want to wake you guys up in the middle of the night.”
“That’s very considerate of you. Just don’t snore so loud.”
“I do not snore!” Scarlet whisper-yells.
We both chuckle, knowing that she does snore even though it’s only a cute, quiet snore that I may have recorded on my phone before to tease her with. The room falls into silence after a while, and I close my eyes, trying to get at least a few hours of sleep.
“I miss her.” Scarlet’s small voice cuts through the quiet night.
“Me too,” I admit.
I hardly think about Adela, let alone talk about her. It just hurts too badly, and it’s easier to pretend she isn’t dead. Like she’s gone on a vacation and will return home when she’s ready.
“This is the first time we’re together somewhere without her, in public, I mean. Someone is going to ask questions, don’t you think? What are we going to tell people when they ask why she’s not here?”
“I don’t know.” I have no fucking clue. “We have to tell people at some point. I don’t know why Dad is so adamant on keeping it a secret.”
“Maybe because telling people will make it real…”
It’s already real, I want to tell her, but I bite my tongue. I still don’t know if that’s my father’s reason, but I do know Scarlet has a point. People will wonder where Adela is, and I am not sure how to answer that.
I’m not sure if I want to answer it either.
28
ASPEN
For the past week, everyone has been talking about the upcoming founders’ ball. A few years ago, I would’ve shared their excitement, but now, I could throw up just thinking about it. Not that I don’t like the idea of a party—dancing and food. It’s the people I know will attend that have me curled up in a ball of nerves and anxiety.
As far as I know, most parents have flown in to see their kids and celebrate the tenth anniversary of opening the school. Of course, my mother has already emailed me about her regretfully declining the invite, which is not surprising at all. I didn’t expect her to come.
Still, a part of me wishes she would. No matter how much she gets on my nerves. She is still my mom, and I want her to be there for me. I want her to want to see me. I want her to want me safe and happy.
Wishful thinking, I know.
More than ever, I hide out in my room, even skipping classes so I won’t have to go out. I go to the cafeteria super early in the morning before most students make their way to breakfast. Then I go a second time between lunch and dinner. That way, I miss everyone, and so far, that includes the Rossis.
Today is the big day, the founders’ ball is happening tonight, and the dorm halls are buzzing with people getting ready, even though it’s still hours before it starts. I have to be the only one not excited about this event. I don’t plan on going anywhere tonight. I’ve already stocked up on books, so I have plenty to read.
I’ve settled into my bed, snuggled beneath the covers, and halfway through the third chapter of the book Brittney told me I had to read when there’s a knock on the door.
Startled, I drop the book into my lap and nearly jump out of the bed. I stare at the door like it’s my enemy. Who knocks on my door? No one… at least, not usually. The only person who comes to my room has a key and wouldn’t be caught dead knocking.
Something in the back of my mind tells me not to open the door, but curiosity killed the cat, and I’m the stupid cat getting up to open the door. My hand shakes as I grab the handle and twist it, opening the door.
All the air stills in my lungs when I see who is standing on the other side. My blood runs cold as I take in the large frame of the man, his black hair is graying, and his face looks weathered, somehow, ten years older than from the last time I saw him. But even his age doesn’t take away how scary he looks. I know he could kill me in an instant, snap my neck like he was tying his shoe.
“Hello, Aspen. Are you going to invite me in?” Xander Rossi asks like we’re old friends.
“I don’t think that’s a good idea.”
“Stupid girl,” he murmurs.
Of course, Xander Rossi doesn’t need an invitation and pushes into my room, almost knocking me down to the ground in the process.