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“Everything will be okay, though, won’t it?” she asks, and the worry in her tone makes me stiffen. “I’llbe okay?”
I squeeze tighter. “Everything will be okay.”
* * *
A loud crash has me throwing the blankets off me and bolting out of bed so fast, I trip over my own feet. I land in a heap on the wooden floor but quickly scramble up.
My bedroom door has been flung wide open, and a fuzzy figure stands in the hallway.
“Who’s there?!” I demand, slapping my palm over my eyes to clear the fog created by the blinding light.
“She’s gone, Cari. She’s fucking gone!”
“What? Who?”
Daddy stomps to me and thrusts a piece of paper into my hand.
I turn on the lamp because the light spilling in from the hallway isn’t enough. Hastily, I read the note written in Alma’s pretty handwriting.
I’m sorry, Daddy. I can’t do it. I’m not brave.
Carina will think of something. She will fix this.
I’m sorry.
A.
“What are we going to do?” he asks, starting to pace the room like a man about to head to the guillotine. “Carina, I’m fucked. What the fuck am I going to do?!”
I’m still staring at the letter in complete shock. She was scared, I know, but I didn’t expect her to bail on us like this.
“Carina!” My father grabs my arm to get my attention. “What do I do?!”
I yank it away, angry at him for putting us in this God-awful position. Angry with her for not taking me up on the offer to run away when we had the chance. Angry with myself for not forcing her to.
Carina will think of something. She will fix this.
Carinawill fix this?
Fury grips me full force, and I let out a scream so loud, my father recoils and lands on the bed. He stares at me with wide eyes, reminding me so much of my sister that it startles me. Until now, I hadn’t realized that they are the exact same person. I’m like my mother was, and Alma is just like him.
“How Momma put up with you is beyond me,” I hiss. “What you should be asking yourself is where Alma could have gone!”
I snatch my phone from the nightstand and dial her cell phone. It goes straight to voicemail. “Damn it, Alma. Call me back.”
When she doesn’t return my call within five minutes, I text her.
Me: Where the hell are you?
To this, she does reply.
Alma: I’m safe. Please don’t hate me.
Me: Are you coming back?
Alma: No. You were right. I shouldn’t have to pay for his sins.
Me: But this isn’t the way to do it.
