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Instead of answering her, I got to my feet and held out my hand to her. “We should get back. I’ll drop you at your car.”
Her brows furrowed, and I wanted to cup her face and kiss her again, despite her lying mouth. My mind warred against my body, but it was one battle I was determined to control. I walked beside her, holding her hand and pretending I didn’t hate her with every fiber of my being.
We were in the car when my phone rang and Phoenix’s name flashed across the screen. I answered immediately. “Hey, what’s up?”
“Aspen’s having contractions. I’m taking her to the hospital.”
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
WINTER
They were there, taunting me—Mom’s letters. I could feel them under my bed. I’d only agreed to bring them with me because coming to Thane was about facing my past and moving on. That was what Brooke and I had talked about and had decided with my therapist. I was on board, just struggling.
Brooke and James had originally wanted me to open them at their house so I would have support. I wasn’t ready. So my plan was a compromise of sorts, and after my ineffective visit to the police station, it was time.
The room was quiet. Piper had texted that she would be staying with her boyfriend that night but to message if I wanted to get together for dinner or anything. Not after my day. Spending time with Landon had been the exception. Otherwise, too much pressed on me. The run-down apartment building where I’d lived with my mom and sister, talking with Estelle, then that creepy feeling like someone was watching me. It’d been happening more often, and I wasn’t sure if it was real or just the past crowding closer.
Piper’s side of the room was a constant reminder of my sister. She’d loved pink, and I’d associated the color with her for so long. It served as another reminder that I needed to face her death and not through the eyes of a child. Something was missing, and I’d felt that for a long time. I had to face the letters from Mom. It was the most logical place to jump-start my memories.
I dragged the shoebox along the floor, out from the shadows, and dropped it onto my bed, where I climbed on after it. I got comfortable with pillows behind my back then flipped open the lid. Bundled in stacks of twelve each, I decided to start with the oldest letter and work my way to the most recent. I lost time in the ramblings of my half-crazed mother’s messy scrawl.
Daughter,
Why didn’t you listen? I told you ungrateful girls to stay out of trouble. But you didn’t. And look what happened? You were the worst of the two of you. Always being difficult. It’s all your fault. Everything.
Mom didn’t bother to sign that one. Or any of the ones that rambled and accused me, without even saying my name, of everything that had gone horribly wrong.
Spawn,
You’re a fool. Do you think what happened to your sister won’t happen to you? It’s not me you need to worry about. You’ll get yours. I wish you were never born.
Iwanted to throw up. That was the mother I remembered, high on drugs or falling all the way down and desperate for more. She’d hurt us then in so many ways. With words, with kicking us out, and sometimes she’d even hit us. Summer had taken the brunt of it. She always did. Tears rolled down my face, and I battled the waves of nausea as I pressed on. I would get through them, and it would hopefully be my last time. If I was honest, I never wanted them to let her out. She could rot in there, and it still wouldn’t be enough.
I tensed as I was catapulted into the past just from Mom’s vile words. Summer and I were young. I was maybe nine years old, and we huddled in a corner of our closet. We shared a room in the two-bedroom apartment where we lived.
Others had come into the living room with Mom. We could hear them, and it sent paralyzing fear into us both. I pressed into my sister’s side, our hands gripped tightly between us. She was my lifeline.
I was so hungry, and I knew she was too. When my stomach growled, it set hers off. If Mom and the others weren’t out there, we could sneak into the kitchen to look for food. If we couldn’t find any, we sometimes went to Mrs. C’s. She always shared.
But we couldn’t leave the closet. We even had a small bucket because the bathroom wasn’t an option either.If they found us…
I shook myself violently and withdrew from the memory. Fucking drug addicts. I hated everything to do with substance abuse. Bitterness coated my tongue. My sister and I had been terrified when Mom had thrown her parties. She was no mother to us, not after Dad had died.
As I read on, finishing the first year she was sent to jail, her lunatic ramblings and threats changed. She seemed almost normal. Or as close to it as I could imagine she knew how to be. And that I trusted even less than the letters her first year.
Winter,
I don’t blame you. What happened was horrible. I’ve cried so many tears for Summer. I wish it had been me who died, never her. She looked so much like her father. Things were better when he was alive. We were happy. I know you won’t understand this, but his death shook me. I had no income. And your father didn’t have life insurance. I was left with debt and two little girls to raise.
We hadn’t planned to get pregnant. Since being incarcerated, I’ve learned that I have some issues that need deep counseling. I’m addressing that, my darling daughter. I’m better, and I’ll keep at it to make sure I never get that low again.
But most of all, I want you to know that I’ll never let anyone hurt you, like what happened to your sister. I’ll always protect you.
Love,
Mom
Bullshit.I felt sick.How dare she? Protect me? Like she wished she’d done for Summer? Against who—herself?She was just as crazy as always but worse because she thought she’d gotten the help she needed. It was self-righteous crap and a way to absolve herself of what she’d done.
