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“I’ll throw him into a burning house.” My mom’s threat makes me laugh.
“Ma, I don’t think the fire captain should be threatening arson.”
“Why go to the trouble of burning a perfectly good home when I can just run him over with my car?” Richie adds.
“I’m going to beat the shit out of him.” Miguel doesn’t even sound like himself.
“I’m pretty sure I know a guy that can help get rid of a body,” Lotte chimes in, which rarely happens.
“Honey,” Mama voices now, “I really wish you’d stop telling us about all the dangerous people you’ve met while working in Grand Rapids.”
Ma scoffs. “No, Lynette, this is the perfect time to know someone like this. Charlotte, do you have their number?”
That conversation goes back and forth for a few more beats.
Currently, the Reed family members who are not present in Alliance with me are all on a multiple-person call.
We rarely do calls like this, but after our texts this morning, they set one up. I didn’t go into too much detail about that night with them. Moms already knew parts of it, but my siblings were all left in the dark.
I’ve spent the last ten minutes talking them out of murder. Not that Dalton doesn’t deserve jail time for what he did to me, but right now, it’s my word against his.
They’d play it off like he was just giving the poor trans girl what she wanted. Dalton might even find a way to use my sexual history against me, and I don’t want to air that out to people.
None of them know that Dalton is here in Alliance. Though, I’ve barely spent a minute alone since everything went down.
Three days later, I’m back at the pier. It’s just as crowded as before.
I just want to be next to Oliver.
“How’s everything with the house?” Ma asks, changing the subject.
“We’re packing up everything we can and then doing a deep cleaning.”
I’m hoping that taking the house apart while getting it ready for Richie to work his magic will uncover the last few letters.
I actually found another letter today. While packing some of the kitchen, I got frustrated and threw the book against the wall. A split second later, the ladder to the attic opened up, and I found more of the Gordons’ belongings. I never went up there as a kid.
What I didn’t expect was to find the letter just sitting out in the open, collecting dust.
Dear Sally,
Today is your 17th birthday. I find myself wondering what life we could have given you if we hadn’t given up. I’m not sure it would be as good as the one your moms can give you. Your dad still doesn’t like talking about that time in our lives, so until he’s ready, I’ll just keep writing these letters for you.
It’s the shortest letter so far. It feels like she just wrote random thoughts like this was her own therapy to get through feeling like a bad mother.
I laugh at the thought.
She wasn’t writing these letters for me, especially if I was never meant to read them. She just wanted to get rid of her guilt.
“For the princess,” Oliver hands me a cotton candy slushie, just like our first date.
Can I call it a date?
We weren’t anything special. Just strangers feeling each other out.
Before I can mumble a thank you, Oliver leans down and places a quick kiss on my lips. I feel the need to deepen it, but he’s already pulling away before the thought can manifest.
Quickly looking up at him, my cheeks flush before looking around the pier to see if anyone is staring.
