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Prologue
I jolted awake at the sound of someone trying to beat down our front door. I sat straight up, the blankets pooling at my waist. My head twisted to look at the blinking orange numbers flashing on the clock beside my bed. Three in the morning.
Fear slithered down my spine like a serpent.
Nothing good came from someone at your door that early in the morning.
I heaved my tired body out of bed. My muscles were stiff and overworked from a rigorous cheerleading practice the night before.
I opened my bedroom door and poked my head out. I saw my mom and dad coming out of their bedroom. A baseball bat was clutched in my dad’s hand. What did he think he was going to do to an intruder with that? Knock them out? Besides, if someone was trying to break in, why would they be knocking on the door?
“Stay up here, Tatie,” my dad warned in a stern voice, quietly tiptoeing down the steps. My mom followed him even though he warned her to stay put as well.
I kept watch on the door.
My dad looked through the peephole and muttered, “What the hell?”
Swinging it open, I saw red and blue flashing lights and an officer stood at our door.
I rolled my eyes. The neighbor’s kids were probably vandalizing again.
I was about to close my door and get back in bed when I heard the officer speak.
“Mr. and Mrs. O’Connor?” He asked. He was young and nervous, obviously new to the police force.
“That’s us,” my dad answered, “is there a problem?”
The officer shifted nervously, clearly not wanting to talk.
Finally he found the courage to speak—to deliver the most devastating news I could imagine. “It’s about your son, there’s been an accident. I’m so sorry to tell you this, but he didn’t make it.” His face was somber, eyes downcast.
My mom let out a piercing, soul-crushing wail, and started to fall. My dad’s arm held her upright.
But there was no one there to hold me up.
I crumbled to the floor, clutching at my chest.
I couldn’t breathe.
I was suffocating under the pressure.
He didn’t make it.
He was dead. My big brother—my best friend—was gone.
“I’m sorry,” I heard the officer say one more time before my dad closed the door. His cries soon joined the sound of my mother’s.
Tears streamed down my face, but my sobs were silent.
Graham was gone. In a matter of hours he’d been ripped from my life forever. I’d just seen him at dinner and we’d been talking about school and how I’d be cheering at the football game on Friday. He was telling me how proud he was of me.
Everything had been perfect. The way it was supposed to be.
Something like this wasn’t supposed to happen.
I felt like my whole world had been tilted on its axis. I felt lost and afraid. I didn’t know which way was up or down.
This was Graham’s last year of high school. He was supposed to leave for college and study to be a lawyer like our dad.
He. Wasn’t. Supposed. To. Die.
None of this was supposed to happen.
My perfect life wasn’t supposed to explode like this.
But it did.
Over night, I went from having it all to having nothing.
I watched my mom close herself off from everybody.
I watched my dad spend his every waking hour slaving over his job so he didn’t have to think about Graham, or mom, or even me.
I watched myself slowly spiral from a carefree happy girl, into a complete and utter cynic.
And I knew exactly who was to blame for everything.
Jude Brooks.
Chapter One
I smiled giddily as the Professor explained our final assignment. As he talked an idea formed in my mind. I knew exactly what I wanted to write about. As a journalism major, we were always writing papers and doing interviews, but this one was to count for fifty percent of our final grade. I wanted to make sure mine stuck out.
