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As I watch my father being led away from our house with his hands cuffed behind his back, I feel like I can’t breathe. My heart is thumping in my chest and my palms are damp and sweaty as I swallow nervously and turn to face my mother.
To my surprise, her face is stony and stoic.
“I had to,” I plead desperately. “Dad was planning something really awful and I couldn’t just stand there and watch!”
Mom presses her lips together until they look like white worms on her face. She clenches her jaw and narrows her eyes at me.
“I can’t believe you,” she says finally before turning on her heel and stalking back inside.
The driveway is filled with reporters and police, and the sound of light bulbs flashing is deafening, like the roar of the ocean during a bad storm. My chin starts to quiver and hot tears fill my eyes.
Not wanting anyone to snap a photo of the disgraced James Carter’s overweight daughter sobbing, I whirl around and run inside.
Thankfully, my mother is nowhere to be found. I go into the kitchen and start raidi
ng the pantry. It’s no secret that I’m an emotional eater and right now, nothing sounds better than an entire box of Oreos with a carton of milk.
After grabbing the cookies and milk, I head upstairs and lock myself in my room. To my horror, I can see the reporters and cops from my window. I yank the curtains shut and slide down with my back against the wall until I’m completely hidden from view.
Even though I’ve done nothing wrong, I feel like a fugitive. Tears spill down my cheeks as I rip open the Oreos and cram three in my mouth at once. The white frosting is so sweet that it burns my tongue, but I don’t care. In a matter of seconds, I’m a heaving, shaking mess.
I know it’s a sin to betray your parents. And under any other circumstance, there’s no way I’d have done something so heinous. But knowing that my father was gunning for Dane...well, that changes everything.
Dane.
God, just thinking about him makes my heart ache. Is he going to call me? Surely by now he’s found out about my father’s arrest.
With a loud sniffle, I pull my phone from my back pocket and check the screen. It’s blank, though – no missed calls, no texts.
“Please, Dane,” I whisper to the phone and hold it close to my lips. “Please, I love you.”
When the phone doesn’t magically vibrate in my hand, a new feeling settles over me. It’s hot and unbridled – the kind of thing that I’m not used to feeling.
Anger.
Anyone with half a brain could figure out that it was me who reported my father. After all, besides my mother, there was no one else with access to his office.
It was actually pretty easy. All I had to do was wait and watch my father locking up his office from the closet. The passcode was only four numbers.
Anyone could have done it.
So, why hasn’t Dane figured it out yet?
The next few days pass in a haze. The morning after my father’s arrest, a uniformed officer comes to our door with horrifying news.
“Mr. Carter had this house mortgaged up to the eyeteeth, ma’am,” the cop tells my mother with a grim expression. “And unless you’re able to come up with the capital, I’m afraid we have no choice but to evict you.”
My mother’s eyes roll back in her head and for a terrible moment, I think she’s going to faint. She steadies herself with a hand on the bannister and turns to me with a hateful gleam in her eye before replying.
“I’m sure we’ll manage,” she says icily. “Won’t we, Allie?”
The guilt burns like a branding iron and all I can do is nod miserably.
As soon as the cop leaves, my mother turns to me. For once in the past twenty-four hours, she looks calm and serene.
“You’re an adult,” she says quietly.
“Yes.” I lick my lips and give a nervous toss of my head. “I am.”
