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No. That wasn’t right. She knew precisely when she’d spoken to him last. How could she forget?
December 2009. Nine months ago.
She knew he missed her, and that he regretted their last conversation. The trail of his messages and texts attested to his regret. How many times had he left messages begging for her to come home?
But he’d never claimed that there was an emergency. He’d never tried to trick her into calling.
She picked her way over Sabrina and around Leif, who had passed out with his guitar on his chest, and went into a kitchen that smelled of slowly rotting wood and mildew. There, she called her dad’s cell. He answered so quickly, she knew he’d been waiting.
“Marah, it’s Dad,” he said.
“Yeah. I got that. ” She went into the corner of the kitchen, where a broken stove and rusted sink bookended a 1960s green fridge.
“How are you, Munchkin?”
“Don’t call me that. ” She leaned against the fridge, blaming it for her sudden cold.
He sighed. “Are you ready to tell me where you are yet? I didn’t know even what time zone to count on. Dr. Bloom says this phase—”
“It’s not a phase, Dad. It’s my life. ” She pulled away from the fridge. Behind her, in the main room, she could hear the bong bubbling and Pax and Sabrina laughing. The sweet smoke drifted her way. “I’m aging, Dad. What’s the emergency?”
“Tully has been in a car accident,” he said. “It’s bad. We don’t know if she’s going to make it. ”
Marah drew in a small, desperate breath. Not Tully, too. “Oh, my God…”
“Where are you? I could come get you—”
“Portland,” she said quietly.
“Oregon? I’ll get you a plane ticket. ” There was a pause. “There are flights every hour. I can have an open ticket waiting for you at the Alaska counter. ”
“Two tickets,” she said.
He paused again. “Fine. Two. What flight—”
She snapped the phone shut without saying goodbye.
Paxton strolled into the kitchen. “What’s up? You look freaked. ”
“My godmother might be dying,” she said.
“We’re all dying, Marah. ”
“I need to see her. ”
“After what she did?”
“Come with me. Please? I can’t go alone,” she said. “Please. ”
His gaze narrowed; she felt sliced by the sharpness of it. Exposed.
He tucked his long hair behind one silver-beaded ear. “It’s a bad idea. ”
“We won’t stay long. Please, Pax. I’ll get some money from my dad. ”
“Sure,” he said finally. “I’ll go. ”
* * *
