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That’s Dad!
“You need to get over there and find out what she knows. You don’t have a choice, Adalyn. Not knowing every detail she knows puts us all at risk. We need to cover all the bases here. Call her again. Call until she answers, and you say whatever it is you have to say to get her to meet you or for her to let you go over there!” That time, it was Andrew speaking.
The call ends. My phone rings again, and I quickly realize it’s Adalyn again. I know she’s scared. I could hear it in her voice.
I answer. “Hey, sorry I didn’t get there fast enough the first time.”
She pauses, and I think she’s surprised I answered.
“Oh, that’s okay. Um, would you like to meet me for dinner? Or I could come by and talk?”
I hear a whisper, so I press the phone harder to my ear as I try to make out the words.
“…tell her you’re worried and need to talk.”
Right on cue, she says, “I’m worried about everything going on. Even if it’s only to settle my own mind, I want us to talk.”
I sit wide eyed, unable to believe what I’m hearing. Is she betraying me on purpose, or is someone pushing her into it?
“Yeah, sure. Come on over,” I say, trying to sound chipper andnotlike my family is turning out to be an untrustworthy bunch of crazies.
“Okay, great. I’ll be right over. Bye.”
The call ends.
What fresh hell awaits me next?
Chapter 8
Ipushmyselfoffthe bed, trying to straighten things up. It can’t look like I’m about to bolt when Addy arrives. She’ll go right back and rat me out. Shoving the giant suitcase into a dark space in my closet, I close the doors before shuffling down the stairs.
I sit on the sofa while I wait for Addy to arrive. Then, restless after only a small amount of time, I stand and pace only to get fidgety and sit again. I’m so anxious—even in my own home.
None of this makes any sense to me. Finally, the doorbell rings. I hop up and scurry over to open the door. Adalyn stands there for a moment, taking me in.
“Hey,” we say, almost in unison.
This is so awkward. It’s obvious she’s uncomfortable because she’s shifting from foot to foot. I pull her inside and give her a quick hug. Eyeing her cautiously, I’m still unsure if I should trust her or not.
I place my index finger over my lips, not wanting to say anything out loud just yet. While I was waiting for her to arrive I stewed on what Christopher could possibly mean when he said he knows about everything I say and do. She looks at me curiously, but remains silent. I walk her into the family room and sit down on the sofa before unlocking my phone.
Opening the Notes app, I type the words“Are they here?”She reads the message, and her eyes bolt to mine. I put my finger over my lips again, urging her not to speak. I need to know they won’t hear anything we say.
They can’t know.
She shakes her head no.
Next, I type, “Can they hear us? Are they recording us?” Reading the message, she slowly shakes her head no again. Her eyes still show confusion.
“I heard…” I quickly stop myself from saying anything more as I wonder if Christopher has some sort of listening device in our home.
“Let’s go to dinner. Christopher won’t be home until later.” I smile, giving her a nod. I want her to agree with nothing else being said.
“Okay, yeah. That sounds good,” she replies simply.
I run upstairs, tossing on a pair of jeans and whatever shirt I can grab off a hanger quickly before tossing my hair into a bun. I stumble out of my room while sliding on a pair of sneakers.
Adalyn is waiting for me at the bottom of the stairs, looking at me like I might have lost my mind. And maybe I have. Maybe this is all paranoia, but we can’t talk here.
