Page 9 of Sinful Lies

I sighed, leaning back. “Mama, I’ve been arrested three times in the past month. I can’t stay here. This town is tearing me apart, and everything tied to it is dragging me down with it. You know it better than I do.”

Just the night before, I’d been released from custody after a bar fight. I had been so far gone, I didn’t even remember what happened until the flashes came back—the tequila, the coke, throwing up all over some poor lady’s dress in the bathroom. The cops had shown up because she’d called them on me.

When they saw the state I was in—blown pupils, the five-gram bag in my jacket—they didn’t hesitate. But Officer Kennedy, my mama’s high school sweetheart—who for some reason still had a soft spot for her—let me go, just like that.

I couldn’t help but think of my papa. He must have been rolling in his grave, watching me from wherever he was. Disappointed. Ashamed.

And my mama, who was flirting with a man she hated just to get me out of trouble.

She sniffled, her hands trembling as she reached for mine again. “What about Dr. Morano? You told me she was nice. Maybe if you go back, spend some time there… she could help you again.”

My shoulders slumped as I looked around the room, my eyes wandering over the remnants of who I used to be. Posters of boy bands, vinyl records from high school, my old pom-poms, teddy bears, paintings from my art classes—all those pieces of a life that felt so far away now.

I shook my head and forced myself to stand, pulling on my jacket and grabbing my bags. “I need to go. I’m gonna miss my bus.”

She sobbed. “Jadie, my baby, why New York? Why not Boston? It’s just twenty minutes away. I could come by, spend time with you, and?—”

I couldn’t look at her anymore.

I turned away, my hands white-knuckling the bag handle. “I’ll text you once I’m there.”

Without waiting for a response, I left the room, walking through the living room where Aunt Kristine, my mama’s sister, sat on the couch. Her sad, knowing eyes followed me before she stood up and pulled me into a tight hug.

“Take care of yourself, birdy. Don’t trust anyone. New Yorkers are… something else.”

I nodded, swallowing hard, my throat tight with the weight of everything I couldn’t say. “I will.”

She reached into her jacket pocket and pulled out a small envelope. Slowly, she opened one of my bags and slipped it inside.

“Some money for your first two months of rent. Leila’s waiting for you. I had to convince her to take you in. So don’t disappoint me. No drugs. Not in her house.”

I wanted to tell her that last night had been the last time. That I’d never touch any of it again. That I’d be better, that I’d change.

But the words stuck in my throat.

“I promise.”

She gently tucked a strand of hair behind my ear, her touch soft, but the sadness in her eyes was almost unbearable. “Try to find peace, birdy. Try to heal, okay? And don’t forget about us. Please, Jadie. Call us.”

I clung to Aunt Kristine for a moment longer, breathing in the last of her warmth.

I let go, but before I could leave, Mama grabbed my arm. Her grip was desperate and tight, holding me like she was afraid I’d slip away forever. Her tears soaked into my neck, her sobs muffled by my shirt.

Aunt Kristine gently pried her away. “Clara, let her go. She’s made up her mind.”

I couldn’t look back.

I knew if I did, I’d fall apart, and I needed to keep moving forward, no matter how heavy my heart felt. Without a word, I turned and walked out the door, closing it quietly behind me.

The streets of Bay Village stretched out before me, the familiar white brick houses lining the road, their gardens quiet now. The places I’d once played, laughing with friends, felt like they belonged to someone else—a version of me that was already fading away.

The memories of neighborhood barbecues, families gathered in front yards, felt distant, unreachable.

I stopped at the bus station, the same one I’d used to catch the bus to school.

The gray bus rolled up in front of me, the words “New York City” shining in bold letters on the front.

I breathed out, the tightness in my chest finally loosening as I handed over my ticket. I made my way down the aisle and shoved my bags into the overhead compartment before settling into a seat at the back.

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