Page 14 of Dreams and Desires

Her voice cracks a little on that last line, like she didn’t want it to—but she doesn’t take it back.

Okay. She’s clever. She caught what I was trying to do. I know I need to defuse the situation.

“Look, I’m sorry, alright? But you didn’t have to start a scene,” I say a bit gently, not wanting to anger this fire cracker anymore, but it backfires. She’s even more angry now.

“A scene? You deserve much more!” She shouts back, her fists clenched.

I can see the crowd gathering, and their judgmental stares are adding to the tension. I need to end this. “Look, let’s just calm down. I’ll take care of any medical bills. Let’s not make this worse.”

“We don’t need your help,” she snaps and then adds. “Jerk.” before turning on her heel and walking away with her brother, leaving me watching her while the crowd around me looks at me like I am the villain.

I get back in the car and slam the door harder than I mean to. The engine kicks on, but all I hear is the echo of that slap. Her voice. Her face. That fire in her eyes.

Who the hell does she think she is—screaming in the street like she owns it? Like I’m the one who needs to answer to her?

No one’s ever hit me before. Not like that. Not in front of a crowd.

And I just stood there. Didn’t yell. Didn’t stop her. Just… watched. That bothers me more than anything.

She had me locked in, and I let her.

Now I can’t get her out of my head.

Chapter Five

Juniper

We get back to the house, and the front door gives that same familiar creak as it swings open. Jacob and I walk inside. He’s quiet, still cradling his arm like it might fall off if he moves wrong. I steer him toward the kitchen, pull out one of the chairs, and lower him into it as gently as I can. He tries to smile at me like he’s fine, but his face is pale and I know he’s in pain.

I head straight for the cabinet. My fingers are shaking as I pull the first aid kit down. I open the antiseptic bottle, grab the cotton and bandages.

“This might sting. Just a little,” I say, even though I know it will sting a lot. I press the soaked cotton to his elbow and he flinches.

“Hold still.”

I don’t mean to sound so short, but my brain’s fried. The last hour has been a mess.

And then I hear her. My mom.

“Couldn’t you keep an eye on him for one afternoon?”

She stands in the doorway.Her arms are crossed. Her lips are pressed thin. Same as always. Disappointed. Distant. Somehow more mad than worried.

I don’t even look at her. “Some jerk nearly drove into us,” I snap. “Can you just for once give me a break?” I slam the gauze pack into the counter.

She doesn’t move. “You know how fragile he is,” she says. “You should’ve paid attention. He’s not like you.”

Before I can respond, I hear footsteps behind her. My dad walks in and leans against the doorframe like he’s just stumbled into this by accident.

“You need to be more careful, Juniper,” he says, not even bothering to look at Jacob. “Your brother can’t handle this kind of stress. You’re here to take care of him. Not make it worse.”

I stop what I’m doing for a moment, but then get back to finishing up bandaging his arm. Jacob looks up at me. He doesn’t say a word.

I breathe through my nose, nod once, and say, “I know, Dad.”

And then, louder—“It wasn’t my fault.”

That last part comes out sharper than I planned. Not yelling. Just full of something I’ve been swallowing all day.

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