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“I’m fine.”
“The nurse said you wouldn’t get your treatment.”
So she ran and told on me? I make a mental note to have her fired.
“It’s nothing I can’t handle.”
“Should I…” Dad hesitates. “Maybe I should fly over there? It’s been a while since I’ve seen you.”
My skin crawls at the thought. “No.”
“Hawk—”
“Don’t waste your time. I’m sure you have better things to do.”
Dad goes quiet.
I slam my hand against the window and flatten my palm on the cool glass. My thoughts veer to that dark night eighteen years ago when I held the spindles of the railing and watched my parents fight for the last time.
“Where the hell do you think you’re going, Sasha?”
“Away from you, Phillip.”
“You’re not going anywhere!”
“Get off. I’m taking the car and don’t you dare come after me!”
“Think about our son!”
“Hawk is all I think about! How dare you act as if I’m the problem?”
“This solves nothing.”
“If you didn’t want me to leave, you should have showed up when I needed you.”
“You know I’ll get you back.”
“I’ll run again.”
“You think there’s anywhere in this world you can hide that I won’t find you?”
“I don’t care! I don’t care anymore. I just know I don’t want to see you again!”
I slam my head against the window. The thud sounds identical to the door slamming the night my mother walked out of the house and never came back.
Sorrow and rage clash in my chest. If I’d made my presence known, if I’d rushed down the stairs instead of hiding in the shadows like a coward, would I still have my mother today?
“You’re stubborn,” Dad chuckles, his voice dragging me back to the present. “So much like her.”
I close my eyes and bite out. “Don’t.”
“It’s a compliment.”
“Not when it comes from you,” I growl.
“Look, I know the accident with your mother—”
“It wasn’t an accident, Dad. It was murder.”
