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“So why’d you send me away?”
She strokes the back of my palm with her thumb, staring deeply into my eyes. “Because we’d almost just lost you, and we felt like we needed to do something. I asked fate for guidance, and I was given a vision of you in Denver. You were so beautiful, so happy. You were thriving.”
I shake my head, wincing at the stab of pain from my belly as I sit up taller. “But this still happened.”
“It was fate’s plan,” she replies cryptically.
I frown, dissatisfied with that answer but not knowing what to ask to make sense of it all.
Mom squeezes my hand again. “I know you’re still angry with your father, but he loves you so much, Sloane. He’s only ever done what he thought was right. Both of us have. He didn’t decide to send you away on his own. We agreed it was best. And I thought… I swear Madd was still part of your life, in that vision of you in Denver. But sometimes I misinterpret things.”
The vision I just woke from flickers through my head again; the images of my father looking more broken than I’ve ever seen him. I bite down on the inside of my cheek to stop myself from crying as I recall the awful things I said to him after I came back home, especially in the context of seeing his agony following the accident firsthand.
“Can you ask him to come back in?” I rasp, glancing toward the door.
Mom gets to her feet right away, scurrying over to the door and pulling it open. I shouldn’t be surprised that my dad’s waiting right on the other side, that same look of guilt and grief in his eyes as they held in my vision.
My mom waves him into the room, swapping places with him and stepping out, closing the door behind her. I wish she’d stayed for moral support, but I suppose this is between me and my dad. That’s how it started, and that’s how it’ll end.
“I’m sorry,” I blurt, not knowing where to begin. “For the things I said, for shutting you out…”
Dad crosses the room to me in a few long strides. “No need for that right now,” he replies gruffly, setting a hand on my shoulder. “Just rest.”
I swallow hard, fighting back tears as I gaze up at him. “You know I love you, right?”
The corner of his mouth lifts in a small smile and he leans down, pressing a kiss to the crown of my head. “I know, baby girl,” he murmurs, crouching lower so he can wrap his arms around me. He does it carefully, so as not to jostle me with his movements, but the warmth of his loose embrace makes my heart swell. “And I hope you know how much I love you.”
“I do,” I sniffle. And even though we still have a lot to talk about, despite the fact that we’ve got miles to go in rebuilding our relationship, it feels like a solid first step to getting there.
23
“Where the hell have you been?” Avery demands, storming into my office right as I’m lowering myself into my chair behind the desk.
I take in the bloodstains on her shirt and hands, my heart plummeting. “What’s wrong?”
“Sloane got shot.”
“Shewhat?!” I roar, springing to my feet in an instant. I lunge around my desk, eating up the distance to the door in a few long strides.
My sister steps back into the doorway to block my exit, holding up her hands. “She’s fine, she’s resting up in the infirmary and her parents are with her right now.”
“What the fuck, Aves!” I spit, resisting the urge to slam my fist through the nearest wall. “Why didn’t you call me?”
“I did!” she yells back.
“No, you fucking didn’t!” I seethe.
Avery scowls, digging her hand into the pocket of her shorts and yanking out a cell phone to prove me wrong. “I called from Sloane’s phone, asshole.”
“Bullshit,” I scoff. “I don’t have any missed calls.”
“Look for yourself,” she huffs, typing in the passcode and handing it over.
My brows pinch together as I stare at the screen, because right there on the call log are three phone calls to me, placed less than a minute apart. Yet I swear my phone never rang.
I shake my head in disbelief, handing the phone back to Avery as I pull my own out of my pocket. I unlock it and bring up the call log, brow furrowing when I see that Sloane’s calls are conspicuously absent.
“It doesn’t make sense…”
