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“Where have you been?”
He doesn’t turn around as he replies, “Out.”
His clipped response surprises me, and I try to keep the hurt from my voice. “Did I do something wrong?”
Quinn rips the T-shirt off his head and turns to face me, chest bare. “Nope. Everything is fine. Perfect.”
“Quinn.” I sigh, but he shakes his head, his messy hair spilling over his brow.
“It’s fine. I’m fine. It’s all fucking fine,” he heatedly replies, quickly putting on a shirt.
Before I have a chance to respond, he charges out of the room, making sure to slam the door shut behind him.
What was that?
Groaning, I fall onto the bed and stare at the ceiling, dreading this dinner even more now.
The phone chiming in Quinn’s backpack has my already jumpy body jarring in shock, and I quickly dive off the bed, searching for it.
“Hello?” I breathlessly say when I find it but am greeted with static. “Hello?”
“Mi…a,” the broken voice says.
“Abi?” I question. Her voice is all jumbled as if we have a bad connection. “Abi, is that you?”
“Mia…can you…hear me?” she asks through a cloud of static, but I can hear that it’s her.
“Abi, we must have a bad connection. Hello? Hello? Shit,” I curse, pulling the phone away from my ear and looking at the screen.
The screen reveals I’m no longer talking to anyone, and I desperately try dialing Abi’s number, but all I hear is a beeping, which informs me I have no cell service.
“Dammit!” I curse again, running around the room, hoping to find a signal as I raise the phone in the air, but I have no luck.
I yank open the window and extend my arm out and up, hoping to get something, but still nothing.
What good is an untraceable phone if it doesn’t have a signal?
I fruitlessly move the cell from side to side for a few minutes, and just as I’m about to give up, the phone beeps, indicating I have a text message.
You must have no service where you are, but good news. We’re almost there. Dad said we’re DAYS away from this being over. You’ll be home before you know it, and everything will go back to normal. Can you believe that?! I can’t wait to see you again. I really miss you. I’ll text when I have news. Miss you!
Ps. Sorry about Tristan :( He just left without telling me!
Pps. Merry XMAS! Love you! x
As I read her message over and over, I find myself needing to bask in the news that this may finally be over. My freedom,ourfreedom, is within reach, and I don’t know what to do.
I don’t want to celebrate prematurely, but I can’t stop the small smile that spreads from cheek to cheek. This is the best news we’ve had in a while.
However, as I read over her message one last time, I can’t help but think that when we all return home, things will never go back to “normal.”
Tossing those thoughts aside, I decide to go downstairs because this news will surely get Quinn out of his bad mood. However, the moment I descend the stairs and head for the den, I wonder if I’ve stepped into an alternate universe.
Polly is coaxing Tristan to come dance with her in front of the fire, while he sits rigid on the sofa, politely declining. She then turns her attention to Quinn. He’s sitting on the recliner, watching TV while drinking a beer.
“Come dance with me, Quinn,” she pouts, seductively moving in front of him, hoping to persuade him.
My eyes narrow, and when he stands up in an attempt to humor her, I use that as my cue to enter.
