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I swipe the tears from my eyes as I crawl over to him, wrapping my arms around his neck.
“Thank you.”
Whatever Quinn’s story, we will deal with it together, just like we always do.We are both scarred souls, drawn together by tragedy, but we’re trying damn hard to break the binds of our past.
“You ready?” Quinn asks as we stare at the mansion before us.
“Ask me tomorrow,” I reply again.
Quinn kisses my temple, and I take that as my cue.
“Will you come with me?”
“Try to keep me away.”
As I set my feet on Canadian soil, I feel like I’ve just stepped in quicksand. And if it weren’t for Quinn’s warm hand in mine, leading me toward my future, I would have crumpled onto the ground.
This is another crossroad in my life that will shape me into who I become. This moment will either make or break the connection I’m so afraid to make.
As we walk up the stairs of the extravagant home, I feel underdressed and unprepared for what I’m about to face.I try to smooth out my sleep-rumpled locks, but my fingers snag, and I give up. Quinn presses the doorbell for me as my shaky fingers fiddle with my frayed sweater.
As the sound resonates inside, I jerk and turn on my heel.“I can’t do this,” I cry, descending the first step faster than the wind.
But the door opening stops my retreat, and I turn slowly, seeing a sight I did not expect to see.
A girl with eyes just like mine looks at me with an arched, sculptured brow.“Can I help you?” asks the bored teenager, looking at me with obvious distaste, but as her eyes fall to Quinn, they pipe up in interest.
“Hi, sexy,” she purrs, leaning against the doorjamb.
If I could speak, I would rip out her eyes, but I can’t. Nor can I move.
The teenager licks her glossy lips as she concludes undressing Quinn. She then narrows her eyes at me, waiting for me to speak.
However, when I remain mute, gaping at her familiar appearance, she barks, “Look, go bother someone else,” and she flicks her long, black hair over her shoulder.
“’Cause whatever you’re selling, we’redefinitelynot interested in.” She scoffs and is about to slam the door shut when my legs finally move, and I launch up the stairs, placing my boot in the doorway.
“Gee, rude much?” she taunts, and this close to her, I can see why Quinn stares, mouth agape.
“Is…is Cynthia Lee home?” I finally get out without choking on my tongue.
She tilts her head to the side in interest. “How do you know her?” she asks, crossing her arms over her chest.
“I just…is she home?” I stutter, looking at this stranger who can’t be who I think she is.
“Fine. Whatever… Mom!” the teenager screams over her shoulder.
Mom?
Oh my God. Is she? But surely, she can’t be. But as I look atmyexpression mirrored on this teenager’s face, I know it’s true.
“Who’s at the door, darling?”I hear a sweet voice ask before the door opens wide, and a middle-aged woman with black hair and bright blue eyes comes into view.
She’s wiping her floured-covered hands on a frilly red apron.But as soon as her eyes fall on me, her hands cease all movement, and she gasps.
At this moment, everything is heightened. The harsh sound of my breathing, the frantic beating of my heart, but most of all, my brain is stuck on repeat, screaming,This can’t be her! This can’t be her!
“M-Mia?” she chokes out, her trembling hand covering her gaping mouth.
But I know with every fiber of my body that this woman abandoned me, leaving me alone with a monster.
And this woman ruined my life.
“Hi…Mom.”
