Page 87 of Like A Moth To A Flame

“What’s wrong?” Her voice was sharp now, all humor and light gone.

“It’s Barrett,” I whispered, tears streaming down my face as I climbed into the car. “Someone attacked him. He—he’s in surgery right now. He was hurt. Bad.”

There was a gasp on the other end of the line, followed by a long silence.

“Do you think it was—”

“I know it was.”

“I’m on my way. Where are you?”

“I’m headed back to my dad’s house,” I murmured, sniffling loudly as I started the car and backed out of the parking space. “Can you do me a favor?”

“Anything,” she said firmly, determination coloring her tone.

“Swing by my apartment. I need the dress I wore to the charity banquet at the hospital. Bring yours too.”

There was a telling silence on the other end of the line.

“Why?”

“I have an idea.”

22

My weakness is that I care too much…

Moth

Ihad to pull over twice on the way home.

Once, to vomit on the side of the road, shaking and sweating, and the second time, to find my phone and stab in a text. I sent it to my little black heart, and even if I tried to add as much anger as I could manage, I only came out as begging.

Why would you do this? Why would you hurt him?

The phone stayed dark and silent for way too long, and dropped it into the passenger’s seat and continued my drive. The darkness pressed in on me from all sides, suffocating me with its weight. I refused to focus on it. Instead, I kept my eyes on the road and my foot on the pedal, forcing myself back home. When I pulled back into Cottonwood Falls, the town was quiet. The storefronts shut tight, silent, and black against the eerie yellow glow of the streetlights. I turned onto Lake Street and continued until I found the turnoff for the gravel road.

When I made it to the driveway, I saw the large, boxy shadow of Amelia’s Escalade. Somehow, she’d made it here before me. Not surprised. The way she sped when she was in a good mood was probably nothing compared to the breakneck speeds she must reach when she’s worried.

Was she worried? Maybe it was just me that was worried?

I parked my car behind Amelia’s Escalade and sat there for a moment, trying to collect my thoughts. The air felt heavy, charged with electricity, and a sense of foreboding crept up my spine.

Her driver’s side door popped open, and a few seconds later, I could see her shock of blonde hair bobbing in the shadows as she moved towards my car.

“Hey,” she said, coming to lean against my door, her arms folded and her chin resting on her wrists. “You okay?”

I swallowed hard, trying to push down the lump in my throat, but it stuck there, choking me.

“Not really,” I admitted, my voice barely above a whisper.

Amelia’s blue eyes searched mine for a moment before she sighed heavily.

“I know,” she said, sighing. “But it’s gonna be okay. Promise.”

I nodded, reaching over to thread the keys out of the engine and stuffing them into my bra. Everything was going in the bra today.

“Did you get my dress?”

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