AllFreeNovel
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It was probably pointless putting it on in the first place, but at least it offers me a small barrier from the winds that threaten to flatten me to the wall.
I used to hit the climbing walls in LA at least once a week, and even though I haven’t kept up with the hobby these last few months, my feet touch the floor without issue.
Although I’ll admit it must be partially because of the adrenaline. When I look back up at the wet, crooked wall, I can barely retrace my route down. But still, I made it.
I’m free.
I take off at a light jog, aiming toward the back of the estate. From the glimpses of the grounds from my window, I know that there is a wall that seems to encircle its perimeter.
If I can find a tree with long enough branches, maybe I could climb it. Maybe I’ll get lucky and there won’t even be a wall on the other side of the small forest that seems to sprout up out of nowhere once I pass by the pool house.
Maybe I’ll be tucked up at home…
My feet slow to a walk as I break through the tree line.
Home. Where is home now, exactly?
My apartment at Juilliard? The place I saw my mentor die? Would I be able to face life there again after that? Every day would be a reminder of him, every class I attended where he wasn’t lecturing, every time I’d walk by our favorite coffee shop, the end of every rough week when an invitation to his office didn’t light up my phone.
So, should I go back to the apartment in Brooklyn? The place my sister and I promised each other would be a fresh start? Rooms haunted by her lies. Her things are still lying everywhere—she didn’t even bother to come pick them up. She just ran away with Jack and left me behind.
No, she didn’t. She wouldn’t. Arnie is a liar. Aimee wouldn’t do that to me.
Despite the partial cover of the branches, the rain begins to send a chill down my spine. I need to find cover and wait for some of this to blow over. That’s all I can afford to focus on.
So I keep walking, scanning everywhere for something that might help. Then I spot it - a treehouse creaking against the branches of an ancient oak. The ladder is broken, suspended a good two yards from the floor, but I don’t let it stop me. Dance classes have some surprising benefits, and I push up from the trunk to grab the bottom of the ladder. The rope of the ladder burns my hands as I pull myself up.
But I don’t care. Finally, I’m able to crawl under the awning and escape the lashing rain.
Finally, I can relax.
Finally.
I can think.
I stare out into the rain and feel myself imploding. Tears stream endlessly down my face and there is nothing I can do to stop them. I curl up, holding myself, begging my brain not to do this. Not now.
But there’s nothing I can do. I’m shaking as the box in my head cracks open and something slips out.
A memory, one of the last I have of Connor.
Aimee is speaking to him in the next room. The lighting is dim, the bed the same that I’d had since I was a child. I’m maybe sixteen years old. Sixteen and coming down from something I probably shouldn’t have taken.
“She’s fine, Aimee,” Connor is whispering as I come to.
“Fine?! Have you looked at her?” Aimee doesn’t bother lowering her voice. “She barely remembers my name.”
“Well, if you weren’t working all the time–”
“She’s not a fucking dog, Connor. She’s my sister,” Aimee snaps. “And fuck you. Do you think I like working at that bar? You think I want to flirt with old men for intel?”
Connor gives up all pretense of a quiet conversation, too. “You weren’t complaining when they bought you that necklace.”
“I sold that necklace to help pay for you to go to college.”
Connor was going to college?
“Don’t you dare throw that back in my face. Dad needs me.”
