Total pages in book: 94
Estimated words: 88447 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 442(@200wpm)___ 354(@250wpm)___ 295(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 88447 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 442(@200wpm)___ 354(@250wpm)___ 295(@300wpm)
My voice was thick, and I had to clear my throat hard before I could respond. “Yes, I’m so sorry—”
Hannah held up both her hands, and her voice wavered as she quickly said, “Please, please stop saying that. You kept saying it over and over. You were breaking my heart.”
I hung my head, my hair obscuring my face. “Did-did I say anything else?”
She opened her mouth, but it took her a moment to speak. “I—you did.”
I hated to ask it, but I had to know. “What did I say?”
“Just…a lot of things that were no good. About your mom.”
Part of me, a sick part who thought I deserved to hurt, wanted to ask what I’d said, to see how deep my feeling of humiliation and embarrassment could go.
When I had a bad panic attack, I knew I sometimes talked about those terrible years in the cabin. Most of the time, I could pretend that part of my life didn’t exist, that it was the past and couldn’t hurt me. When my mind decided to break, it always seemed to want to relive those days. My therapist said it was my psyche’s way of trying to process the trauma, but I had no idea. I literally went blank during a severe panic attack, and never remembered anything after I came out of it.
When something triggered a memory of my mother’s abuse—like the way that blonde was staring at me with pure hatred combined with the sight of blood—I tended to talk as if she were there. At least, that’s what my parents and other people who’ve witnessed one of my episodes have told me. Which usually meant begging her for food, trying to get her to stop beating me, or pleading with her that I was cold—so very, very cold.
In the cabin in Minnesota, the heating had been on and off, but there was a fireplace I could use if I was desperate. I was scared to start a fire, because my mother said I’d be wickedly punished if I did. But during a long absence, she left me alone for close to two weeks, and there was no heat for a couple of those days. I’d almost froze to death before she finally arrived, too scared of her wrath to light a fire that would save my life.
I hated the cold, and my adoptive parents, bless them a million times over, moved us to Arizona when I was fourteen to help me cope.
Taking a deep breath of the nighttime desert air filtering in through the open door of the limo, I reminded myself that I was alive, and I was safe. The past couldn’t hurt me. I was far, far away from the endless woods and deathly silence. I was safe.
Outside the car door, I could see a portion of a familiar palatial house. We were parked in a circular drive, and a massive brass dolphin and mermaid fountain splashed merrily away nearby. I focused on the soothing sound of the splashing water, my mind feeling as if I was waking up from a deep, yet restless sleep.
“Nice fountain,” I croaked while giving Vali love.
“Thanks,” Hannah nervously wrung her hands together. “I hope you don’t mind, but I thought maybe you’d like to do a sleepover. I, well, I didn’t feel okay about leaving you alone tonight. Plus, I didn’t think you’d want the drama of Mark showing up in a pissy.”
I snorted, and my heart sank. “Like that would happen.”
“Oh, he’ll show up, trust me.” Hannah clapped her hands. “But you know what? We’re done talking about his dumb butt. Come on, I haven’t had a sleepover in like forever, not since Joy got preggo. You can borrow some of my pajamas, we’ll raid the kitchen, then we can watch some old movies. Sound good?”
“What about Vali?”
“He’s good around other dogs, right?”
“Yes.”
“Honey, my pit bull, is a huge lovebug. She gets along with everyone. If you’re okay with it, you can just let Vali off the leash in the house. We have a couple dog doors, but the backyard is totally enclosed by an eleven-foot adobe wall and it’s patrolled. Nothing will hurt Vali or you while you’re here. I promise.”
Her smile slipped away by the time she finished her sentence, and it was easy to see she meant what she said.
“Thanks. I’ve never had a sleepover before. At a girl’s house, that is. Just a couple ex-boyfriends.”
Hannah smiled and sat up, smoothing down her gold dress. “Come on, I’ll show you to your guest room so you can shower. I’ll have the maid leave some pajamas on your bed for you.”
“Where’s Leo? Is he going to mind me staying over?”
“He…had to take care of some work stuff, so we can play our music as loud as we want and not use coasters in the media room. He hates that.”