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“Okay, Canada it is, then.”
Quinn’s eyebrow shoots up into his hairline.
“Are you going to stay with your mom?” Abi asks.
Looks like her dadhasbeen busy checking me out.
“I’m not sure.”
“My dad just thought it would be safer if you stayed with her,” Abi says cautiously while I feel like I’m about to be sick.
Safer with my mom? I hate that I can’t give Abi a definite answer that staying with my mother would indeed be the safer option, as opposed to running.
“My dad said his guys have tracked down your dad, Mia. He’s always a step behind you. How does he know?” Abi asks when I remain mute about the whole mom topic.
I close my eyes, as hearing Abi confirm what I’ve known to be true just sucks. I know my dad and Phil will eventually catch up to me. And when they do, I’ll be ready.
“Because he’s my father. He knows how I think,” I confess, wishing I could change that fact.
I see Quinn out of the corner of my eye shift forward at the mention of my dad.
“Well, change that. If your gut tells you to go left, then go right. Shake it up so you throw him off.”
“You’re right, Abi. Thank you,” I say, wanting this conversation about my dad to end as my throat feels dry. “How’s Tristan?”
“He’s okay. He’s just been released from the hospital. I think they were sick of him being such a pain in the ass.”
“He’s been released already? Isn’t that too early? I thought you said he’d be in there for a week or so?”
Quinn looks at me with a small smile on his face. He obviously knows his brother is as stubborn as he is.
“He was determined to get out and help you guys. He knows everything and wants to do anything he can to help,” Abi replies, and I can hear the strain in her voice.
No doubt she’s been trying to convince him otherwise, seeing as he’s still probably in a lot of pain, and in no condition to be helping anyone out, other than himself.
“He knows everything?” I ask with a catch in my throat.
“Yes. I told him. Oh God, I hope that’s okay?”
“Yes, of course. I’m just—”Embarrassed. Mortified. “I just hate that you both are involved in my mess. You’re really sticking your necks out for me.”
“We’re doing this because we love you and want you to come home.”
“I want to come home too,” I reply, close to tears. “I better go. I’m not sure about this phone line.”
“Okay.”
“Abi, can you do me a favor?”
“Anything,” she replies without delay.
“Can you get Tristan there tomorrow, around four, your time?”
“Yes, of course.”
There is a big elephant in the room, and I really want to address it, but I don’t know how.
“How was the…”Funeral, I silently add, but am unable to voice it aloud.
