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Prologue: Peyton Linwood—Eight Years Old
“I hate that woman.If I could get away with it, I’d kill her,” Aunt Jeannie ranted as she paced in the living room, squeezing her hands into fists. Uncle Wolf sat on the couch, sipping his beer. “She’s going to need therapy foryears.”
She’d been whisper-yelling for ten minutes, while I perched on the stairs, listening to her go on and on about how angry she was. Neither of them noticed me. I’d gotten good at hiding.
Those last words made my heart hurt. I didn’t want her to get in trouble, not because of Mother or me. Aunt Jeannie was wonderful. She always tried to make me smile.
When Aunt Jeannie turned to pace toward the stairs, she caught sight of me through the banister, and her face went from angry to sad. She stopped moving, closed her eyes, and put her hands on her hips.
Too scared to move, I shoved my hands under my butt to stop them from shaking. The last time Mother caught me listening in, she sent me to my room for two days. Which wouldn’t have been so bad if she hadn’t taken my books too.
Aunt Jeannie walked to me slowly, climbed the steps, and sat next to me. “How much of that did you hear?”
Tears climbed into my eyes, and I clenched my hands as I tried to hold them back. Nothing good ever came from crying.
She slipped a thumb under my eye, wiping away a tear, and linked her fingers with mine. With a soft tug, she stood me up and walked me down the rest of the steps to where Uncle Wolf sat.
Without letting go of my hand, Aunt Jeannie pulled me to sit between her and my uncle. Was she going to yell at me? Would she call Mother?
“I’m sorry you heard that,” Aunt Jeannie said, talking slowly. “But I want you to know that I’m not going to take it back.”
Uncle Wolf barked out a laugh. He was big, bigger than Dad, even though they were brothers. Dad was meticulous about his appearance and always wore a suit. His brother was his opposite, with his long hair, beard, and casual clothes. He drove a loud motorcycle that hurt my ears, but that sound coming down our long driveway at home always meant it would be a fun day. He filled up the room in the best way, making it impossible for anything bad to happen.
I knew Uncle Wolf wasn’t his real name, it was too silly, but no one ever said what his real name was. “Are you okay?” he asked, his big warm hand rubbing the back of my neck. I nodded. Was there a reason I shouldn’t be okay?
“Do you understand what’s happening?” Aunt Jeannie turned to face me. “I know there was a lot going on when we picked you up earlier today.” She stopped moving, which was weird. My aunt was always a big ball of energy. She cooked, sang badly—it was fun though—and bounced around and called it dancing.
“Yeah. We’re having a big sleepover,” I said, all memories of being scared moments ago washed away by my excitement. This was my first sleepover, and even though it was just my aunt and uncle, I knew it would be so much fun. I hoped Hunter would join us too.
She looked at my uncle, and they said something with their eyes that way adults do sometimes.
“Peyton, what if we invited you to live with us? Would you like to stay with us?” Aunt Jeannie asked.
Live with them? Like forever? I blinked fast, making sure this was real. I’d dreamed about coming to stay with them, of them being my actual parents, for a long time. They hugged me, talked to me, and never called me weird or too smart for my own good.
I swallowed hard. “Won’t Mother be upset if I don’t come back?” Mother either acted like I didn’t exist or somehow made every wrong thing my fault, even if I wasn’t there. Either way, it was easier if I hid.
Aunt Jeannie made an ugly face. “Mother.” She stuck her tongue out and pretended to gag. “The woman has no heart.”
“Focus, babe,” Uncle Wolf said, but he wasn’t mad. He was smiling, and it made me want to smile too.
“Right, sorry. We’ve worked it out with your parents. And if you want, we’d really love it if you stayed with us. I’d love to have another girl in the house.” My heart beat so loud that I could barely hear her.
“You want me to stay with you?” I asked. This wasn’t real… it couldn’t be. No kid I ever met had their dreams come true. Any second, I was going to wake up.
“We want nothing more than for you to stay with us. We’ve already looked at that special school for you and have a tour scheduled for tomorrow,” Uncle Wolf said. For a big scary biker—that was the nice version of what Mother called him—he was the best.
“I thought I wasn’t going because…” Do I tell them about what happened when the teacher called Mother and told her I needed to go to a different school because they didn’t have the resources to keep me there anymore? Mother was so angry. She yelled at me and told me I’d have to deal with it, that I wasn’t getting anything special.
“If that’s where you want to go, that’s where you’ll go.” Uncle Wolf squeezed my hand. “Tomorrow, after we take a look, we’ll decide together, and if it doesn’t feel right, we’ll figure something else out.” I remembered the brochure, all the kids smiling. A school for gifted children, kids like me. Nobody would make fun of me because I was eight and they were eleven and twelve and we were in the same classes.
My bottom lip trembled. This wasn’t a dream. “So, I’m staying here with you? Forever? I never have to go back?”
“I know this place isn’t as big, but we’d love it if you called it home,” Aunt Jeannie said, her eyes watery.
All the tears that I’d been holding in for as long as I could remember—tears I was too afraid to let fall—came out, streaming down my face uncontrollably. The fear I’d lived with for so long, fear of being noticed in a house full of people who yelled at me for existing, poured out of me.
Uncle Wolf picked me up, wrapped me in his big arms, and held me tightly while I cried on his shoulder. It only served to make me cry harder.
