AllFreeNovel
Share Us
PROLOGUE
DAMIEN
“Alright, bud. Here we go. This looks like the place.”
I glanced up from the book I was reading—or at least pretending to read—and peered out the back side window of the car as my dad pulled into a tightly packed parking lot.
Across the street, I saw the building he was referring to. It was a dull, tan thing that hogged the entire block with short walls, a flat roof, and high-set windows like a prison. But it wasn’t prison.
To me, it was so much worse.
The Westport Children’s Trauma and Grief Counseling Center was the absolute last place on earth I wanted to go, but both of my parents had decided I would, anyway.
When I saw a woman walking toward the entrance carrying a girl who had pigtails in her hair and looked as if she was only two or three years old, I cringed. I couldn’t join some bereavement group with a bunch of babies. What would that makemelook like?
“Dad, seriously,” I tried with one last-ditch effort to bail. “I think I’m doing better now. I don’t need—”
“Damien,” he cut me off with a stern voice that told me there was no changing his mind. “We already talked about this. And you agreed. You were going to stick with it for a full month just to see what it was like.”
Yeah, except I could see what it was like from here. I wasn’t impressed.
“But—”
“Endof discussion.”
Huffing out a breath, I slumped down in my seat and frowned as he whipped into a free parking spot and cut the engine.
So this was whyhehad brought me, not Mom. Mom was the softy. All I would’ve had to do with her was pull out one of my mopey faces and she would’ve already caved by now. We could be halfway home—and probably with ice cream—ifshe’dbrought me.
But I guess my parents were getting too smart. A mopey face around Dad only seemed to convince himmorethat I needed to be here.
I was so totally stuck doing this.
“Okay, time to take a break from Percy Jackson,” he announced as he slipped off his seatbelt. “Let’s go, kiddo.”
Regrettably, I set the book on the seat beside me and mournfully touched the glossy cover in farewell. I had waited months for this volume to be released so I could learn all about Rick Riordan’s take on the Greek gods. But by the time it had hit the stores, my world had already turned upside down.
My parents had gotten it for me, anyway, thinking it would help cheer me up. But I’d had it a full month now, and I still hadn’t gotten past the introduction. My brain felt too numb to focus on words… Something I would most definitely not be sharing with anyone, or they’d probably have me freaking committed.
But carrying around the book had been comforting, like it was a memory of life before everything had changed. If I just kept it with me, things might still have a chance of going back to normal.
It didn’t stop Dad from opening my door, though. My fate was sealed, and nothing would ever be normal again.
I sent him a rebellious glance, wondering if he’d climb back here and drag me from the seat and all the way inside kicking and screaming if I just absolutely refused to move.
With Dad, the answer was too hard to gauge, so I groaned out a disgusted breath and climbed from the car.
I tried to trudge petulantly behind him and hide from my fate as best I could, but Dad forced me up to his side and guided me with a firm hand on the back of my neck.
At the street, we paused to wait for a car to pass, and when we stepped off the curb to walk across, I focused on the bright white stripes of the pedestrian crossing on the asphalt, too afraid to look up at where we were heading.
Only brave people faced hell straight-on.
But then my father said, “Hey, look. That boy appears to be your age. Maybe you’ll make a friend.”
I lifted my face against my better judgment, only to discover that the pleasantly sterile glass gates of hell loomed even closer than ever, welcoming me with green and white balloons and a sign that saidGrand Opening.
My stomach clenched into immediate knots. This was really happening. I was being forced into grief counseling.
