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My mom's hand comes down, peeling my fingers away from the seat. "Vera, I'm sorry for not telling you about Samuel's son. I knew you wouldn't be too happy about it—"
I snort. "You've got that right."
"But, I really think this will be a good thing. For the both of us."
I bend down, reaching for my black bag below me. "And how is that?" I unzip the front pocket, pulling out a pack of cigarettes and my lighter. I shouldn’t smoke. These last two weeks I’ve been smoking way more than I usually do. Which is still barely anything, but each hit is terrible for me.
"You're not smoking in here."
I flick my white lighter, sparking the end of my Marlboro. Blowing smoke from my nose, I turn around and stare at her. "Except I am. You've pulled me from my home, and you aren't telling me about all the details of the place I'm supposed to be calling my newhome. Forgive me for feeling a little uneasy. I think I'm going to smoke if I fucking feel like it."
She turns on her blinker. "I'll just pull over," she bites out.
I sigh. "Whatever."
She pulls onto one of those scenic lookouts on the side of the road. It overlooks Lake Superior, and luckily, there's only one other car in the lot. I hop out before she even shifts into park, walking away from her SUV and over to the edge of the brick. I sit down, letting the cigarette burn between my fingers as I stare out across the water. It's dark blue, and the chilly air hits my cheeks.
I reach behind me, sliding my hood over my head as I glance down at my cigarette. The ash sits an inch long, and I tap the filter, watching the white flecks flow away in the cool breeze.
"You know, I really don't want this to be how it's going to be for us," my mom starts, walking over to me. Her arms are crossed over her chest, the hair on her arms raised from the crisp air. "How we've been these last few years, that's not how I want us to be. Think of this as a chance for us to start over. For us to be a family again. I love you, Vera, and I only want what's best for you. I might not have been the best mother these last few years, but I'm here now."
I can hear the sincerity in her voice. I can see the pain and sadness on her face. She means what she says. She says what she feels.
Too bad it's all bullshit.
Everything she says has a motive. She says these things because they benefit her. She says them because we're going someplace new, and she doesn't want an asshole kid in tow. If it was her choice, maybe she would have left me on the street back in Fargo, but she couldn't, so she wants to salvage the little bit of our relationship that she can. If we weren't here, she would never have said these things. We would still be at arm’s length with each other. She would be gone, and I would be all alone in our house, with my lonely thoughts and my wounded heart.
I needed her two years ago. I needed her when I was at my lowest. But she wasn't there. She hasn't been there. And now she expects I'll be there for her?
Fuck. That.
"You're too late." I brush the cherry along the bottom of my boot and slip the short into my pocket. Her face drops, a combination of sorrow and irritation crossing her face. I slip past her, folding my arms across my chest as I walk back to the car.
She stays outside a moment, her brown hair blowing in the wind as she watches the small waves. A young family with a baby take a picture nearby, the baby smiling brightly as she points to the waves as they crash against the shore. Life used to be simple like that. Seamless. Easy. Happy.
It's none of those things any longer.
The door cracks open, and my mom slides into the driver's seat. Her cheeks are tinged pink, and she runs her hands together before starting her car. "If you don't want to forgive me, fine. But I expect you to behave while we're there."
"Yup," I mumble, popping thep.
With a sigh, she reverses out of the lookout and continues our drive.
Welcome to Castle Pointe.
The sign looks like it's wrapped in evil, the square brick crumbling on the edges, with a vine wrapping around the top. The moment we pass the sign, any lingering sunlight left in the sky becomes shrouded by clouds. Lake Superior disappears as we continue driving, tall pine trees that are so green they look black crowd the road on both sides. A light fog lingers in the area, making goosebumps break out along my arms even though my mom turned off the air con a long time ago.
I look up the hill, seeing fallen rock littering the edge of the pavement. In between the trees is filled with darkness, shadows, and growing gray fog, making it impossible to see into the forest. Every once in a while, I'll see a house. A tall brick monstrosity that looks abandoned. Maybe haunted.
"This isn't it, right? I hope this isn't it." I laugh, feeling like this is some sort of a prank. A fucking joke, right? Because I'm not living here. Like, at all.
"This is it. But, Vera, don't be so quick to judge. Samuel says Castle Pointe has a lot of history and can be very beautiful."
"Beautiful is the last thing I'd call this."
Before we hit the sign, the car thermostat said it was forty-two degrees, and the moment we passed the sign, I've been watching it drop, degree by degree. Now it's thirty-five. How can one town be degrees colder, and why would it happen the moment we got into said town?
"It's not so bad. Look at that house up there." Her red nail points up the hill, at a large, gray mansion. The tops are pointed, like a castle. The circular driveway is littered with pine needles, as if it hasn't been driven on in a while, except there's a midnight black Mercedes-Benz sitting in front of the house.
