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Ava pats her jeans until she finds her phone pulling the device from her pocket. Panic flashes across her face and dread fills my gut.

“What’s wrong?” I question, covering the space between us with one huge step. Her bottom lip wobbles and her eyes widen.

“My father, he’s calling me…”

“Okay?” The inky dread I was feeling moments ago dissipates a little.

“He’s supposed to be in rehab, not using his cell phone.” Still, I don’t understand, but she doesn’t give me the opportunity to ask another question. Instead, she presses the green answer key and holds the phone to her ear, and I swear I can see her slipping right through my fingers.

Chapter Twenty-One

Ava

“Dad?” My voice trembles through the speaker of the phone. Vance stares down at me, a frown on his lips.

“Baby girl. It’s so good to hear your voice. God, it seems like it’s been forever since I’ve seen or heard from you.” I grip the phone tighter to my ear.

“Where…where are you? You’re supposed to be—”

“I know where I’m supposed to be,” he cuts me off, his voice raised in a tone that tells me he’s been drinking. When he drinks, he gets mad, and when he gets mad, shit goes to hell.

“Dad,” I try and keep my voice calm, neutral, even though inside I feel like I’m a plane spiraling out of control, headed straight for the ground. “Dad, tell me where you are? I’ll come get you, help you.”

“Ha, no can do, sweetie. I’m going to right my wrongs. I just wanted to let you know that I love you before everything ends. I know you blame yourself, think that it’s your fault, but it isn’t. You were always the best thing that ever came from your mother.”

I blink, confused by his statement. Right his wrongs? What is he talking about?

“Dad, what’s going on? Tell me. Please, just tell me,” I plead, the muscles in my stomach tightening painfully, so painfully that I lean against the nearest wall.

“I love you, Ava,” he whispers, and then the line goes dead.

I blink, pulling the phone away from my ear to look down at the screen. I stare at it, mouth gaping open for several seconds before I realize he just hung up on me.

“Oh God…” I whisper into the air and redial his number, but it goes to voicemail. “Shit, shit, shit!!”

I pull the phone away from my ear and look at the screen, waiting for something to happen that could make all of this go away. How did my life become such a mess? My father, Mom, Vance. It feels like I’m on a downward spiral. Damnit! I thought my dad was getting better at that facility, not worse, but he definitely sounded worse.

He sounded like he was saying goodbye, almost as if he was going to… No! I shake my head as if it will make the thought disappear. He wouldn’t hurt himself, would he? Or worse, someone else?

“What’s wrong?” Vance’s voice makes me look up from the screen, my eyes clash with his concerned ones. I almost forgot he was here.

“I…I don’t know. I need to find my dad. Figure out where he is, if he’s okay,” I say, my feet already moving in the direction of the car.

“Wait, where are you going? Where is your dad? What happened?” Vance asks, his voice tight as he follows me closely while I speed walk down the street.

I can feel my lips trembling, I’m breathing but there isn’t any air filling my lungs.

“Ava, where are you going?” He repeats his question, sounding even more nervous.

His panic is making me panic, and… Where am I going?

“I don’t know!” I yell, throwing my hands up in the air.

“Okay, calm down. You look like you’re about to hyperventilate. Slow down for a sec and tell me what’s going on. Talk to me.”

We reach the car then, but instead of getting into the driver’s seat like I had planned, I stop. As badly as I don’t want to listen to Vance, he’s right. I’m about to hyperventilate, the tightening in my chest getting worse. Leaning against the side of the car, I suck air into my lungs. In through my nose, and out my mouth, the air swishes until the tightening in my chest becomes bearable again.

“I don’t know where my dad is, but he sounded like he was going to do something…like hurt himself, or someone else. He was drunk and he was telling me that he loved me and that he was going to right his wrongs…whatever that means. I don’t know. He sounded bad. I have a bad feeling. This is terrible, horrible, and I don’t know how this happened. How did this happen?” The panic is rising inside me, cresting against my sanity.

Vance places his strong hands on my shoulders, and I don’t have the strength or willpower to shrug him off. Right now, his touch is a welcoming one, a healing balm on the pain.

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