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It’s the oddest sensation.
While this sixth sense should tell me to be cautious of my surroundings, it actually feels like I’m safe somehow. Like someone up there is looking down on me, making sure I don’t take a false step or do anything that will bring danger to my doorstep.
It’s only late at night, while I’m lying in bed with Zoey, that my mind travels to darker territory, wondering if, in fact, there is a real live person who is tracking my every move.
Later that night, I whisper, “Zoey?” wondering if she’s already fallen asleep.
“Hmm?” She yawns.
“Have you seen anything weird lately? Experienced something that felt wrong to you?”
“You mean like Uncle Dave eating a whole bucket of chicken for himself and only giving us a wing to share? That kind of weird?”
“Are you hungry?” I ask, now worried that my baby sister isn’t getting enough to eat.
“No. I stole two pieces when he wasn’t looking.” She giggles.
“You did? You little devil.” I laugh under the cloak of night, pinching her back affectionately. She turns around to face me on our shared bed, the rays of moonlight streaking through the curtains making it possible to see her mischievous grin.
“Uncle Dave can stand to skip a meal or two.” She shrugs.
“That may be true, but next time, come to me if you want more food. I can get it for you.”
Her smile turns upside down. “Do you think if he caught me stealing that Aunt Lucy would send us back to the foster home?”
“No, of course not,” I lie. “That would be silly of them to do so. Besides, they like having us here.”
“If you say so,” she mumbles, unconvinced.
“That’s not important right now.” I shrug, not wanting my little sister to be worried that my aunt can change her mind at any minute and send us back into the foster system. “I’m going to ask you something, Zoey, and although it might sound weird to you, I need you to answer me truthfully. Can you do that for me?”
She nods.
“When you go to school or play out on the street with the other kids, do you feel like someone is . . . I don’t know . . . watching you?”
“Of course I do,” she answers as if it’s the most natural thing in the world.
“What? You do?” I blurt out, unable to hide my worry.
Zoey yawns again, turning to the other side and snuggling farther under the covers, as if her answer didn’t just put me on high alert. “It’s our guardian angel, Layla. He’s always watching us. You don’t have to be scared. It’s okay.”
My shoulders slump in both relief and defeat.
Zoey hasn’t let go of this angel talk since the incident.
Maybe it’s the only coping mechanism she has to deal with what happened to us, our family, and Gage, and although I don’t want to encourage such delusions, I don’t have the heart to take away the only comfort she seems to have found to deal with what transpired.
“Of course. How silly of me,” I mutter before placing a kiss on the back of her head. “Goodnight, sweet girl.”
I turn to the other side of the bed and close my eyes, hoping that sleep will take me under and away from thoughts of stalkers and murderers.
Like clockwork, however, just when sleep starts to seep in, making my eyelids heavy and my heart rate slow, sapphire blue eyes shine brightly at me, guiding me to dreams of a life that could never possibly be mine.
A life where both Zoey and I are happy and loved.
CHAPTER4
Alaric
