Page 27 of Of Light and Dark


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Heather glances sideways at her husband before straightening her back and interlacing her fingers on top of the table. Her attorney pose.

I slowly approach the closest chair and pull it out, my heart hammering in my chest as I lower myself down. I peer at Heather but am forced to focus on my adopted father when he begins to speak. "We would like to know how the article Agent Camden informed us of disappeared, and instead, Mom and I get phone calls to comment about our daughter getting bullied in school."

Rhys mimics his father’s posture. "What makes you think we have the answers to that?"

"Do. Not. Treat me like an idiot, son," Tristen barks, and I jump in my seat. He levels me with a glare that could make grown men pee their pants. "Whose phone was that the other day? And who did you talk to?"

Crap, crap, crap.

"What phone?" Heather interjects, confused.

Speaking to his wife but not taking his eyes off me, Tristen explains, "The day Lilly took the truck, I caught her with a phone that we didn't give her."

My adopted mother opens her mouth, but Rhys beats her to it. "I gave her the phone. I wanted to be able to reach her. It was just a prepaid one."

Following the exchange, I try to appear unaffected, but let's be honest, I might as well have a billboard with "She's hiding something" hovering over my head. Between my rapid pulse and sweat pouring out of every pore, I look either guilty as hell or like I just sprinted a mile at full speed.

Where Heather purses her lips, Tristen's cocked eyebrow screams bullshit.

"Who was on the phone then? I know it wasn’t you." He levels his son.

Because your tracker would’ve recorded a call coming from Rhys's phone.

"Wes!" I blurt out without thinking.

Two sets of eyes focus on me, and the needle in their built-in lie detectors goes haywire. Both remain mute, and I'm ready to confess when Rhys deadpans, "After all the secrets you've been keeping from her—from us. What makes you think we'd tell you anything?"

Tristen slams both fists on the table, and I yelp in shock. "Because this is not a fucking game, Rhys! This is all for Lilly's safety. And yours."

Wha—?

Rhys narrows his eyes at his father. "What is that supposed to mean?"

Heather places a hand on Tristen’s forearm. "We wish you would tell us what’s going on so Dad can protect you."

Rhys barks out a laugh. "Could you be more cryptic? Protect us from who?"

When neither of them speaks, Rhys pulls me up by the hand. "And that’s why we don’t tell you jack shit!"

I let him lead me from the kitchen. Not good.

We spend the remainder of the day upstairs in my room, without dinner.

ReplayingHeather’s and Tristen's words in my head over and over, I barely slept that night. In the morning, I waited until I heard the Raptor pulling out of the garage and Natty was downstairs eating breakfast before leaving the safety of my room. Using my little sister as a buffer to not deal with Heather is cowardly, but it's all I can think of not to get confronted again.

I'm starting to believe that there is something other than just the threat of my kidnapper—which is not a threat at all, but they don't know that.

As I useone of the bathrooms between second and third period the next day, I discover some new love notes inside the bathroom stalls.

Lilly McGuire is a brother-fucking slut.

Classy.

If you want a cheap lay, call the QB’s little sister. She spreads her legs for everyone!

Not sure whythis is in the girls’ bathroom, but okay. The tags go on, and eventually, I stop reading.

I manage to get through my first three classes with minimal insults and am glad the next few periods are with Denielle. I stayed true to my mantra and didn't let my emotions overpower my intelligence, but I’m drained. The lack of sleep and the energy of keeping my guard up at all times are taking their toll. I'm going to need this weekend to recharge and prepare for the last five days before spring break.

Friday istrack day in P.E.—unless it's pouring rain or a blizzard outside—something I used to enjoy but now have to mentally prepare myself for. The idea of showering with the enemy has my mind coming up with all kinds of mean-girl scenarios. I've seen too many movies where clothes get stolen and whatnot.

I’ve successfully avoided it for the last two days since we played badminton and I was able to keep the sweating to a minimum, but I know I won't be that lucky today.

I take solace that my best friend will be with me and nothing would happen with her around.

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