Page 141 of Outspoken

I re-read it because I can’t understand how a mother could be this distant. Family is the most important thing in life, so to throw your son away…? Makes my stomach churn from thinking about it.

I dig through the wastebasket to find the letter’s envelope. It’s postmarked the same day Mom passed. Angel has been collecting the mail since I’ve been moping around, so he probably got it around the burial.

And then what?

He hung a single shirt in the closet.

I crumple the envelope in my fist, feeling the suffocating weight of how I completely fucked this situation with my stupid words. With this new information, I can’t let him wander too far. He might leave the city, and I’ll never forgive myself if something happens to him.

Going back to the hallway to pace, I call him. It goes straight to voicemail. I call Maribel next.

“Hey,” she answers. “I was just thinking about coming by to—”

“Do you know any of the places Angel visits? When he goes out at night. I know he likes to visit the beach and downtown, but anywhere else?”

She laughs. “So he finally ran off?”

“It wasn’t unprovoked.”

“Wow, he even got to you? You never get mad. Honestly, vete con viento fresco. I think you’re better off. He’s the kind of little monster that will stab you in your sleep. Wait, he didn’t wreck Mom’s stuff, did he? No Miguel! You shouldn’t have left it out. You know he’s a bastard. Did he—”

“Stop,” I growl into the phone. “I know he can act out, but he’s a kid with messed up parents. Stop bashing him when he’s clearly struggling. He left twenty minutes ago, and I need to figure out where he’s going. Do you have any clues?”

She huffs into the phone. “No, but why—”

“I’ll try Rico. Thanks.”

I hang up because I don’t want to waste time arguing with Maribel.

I guess I’ll try the beach first. Dodging the broken TV, I grab my wallet and keys from the side table, then open the front door. After locking it and heading to my car, I call Rico to see if he has any ideas.

I’m not going to let Angel disappear. I’ll fix this.

Chapter Thirty-Four

Amber

JACKIE BURSTS THROUGH THE FRONT door suddenly and I flinch. Apparently, I’m so startled that I squeeze the tiny plastic piece I’m balancing in my fingers and it snaps. I drop it on the coffee table, which I’m sitting in front of cross-legged.

“Goddammit,” I mumble to myself.

Jackie pauses to look at me and my project, holding a few shopping bags. Her eyebrows scrunch together. “What are you doing? Building a boat?”

I nod, wiping the glue that’s oozing near the ship’s rudder. “It’s a pirate ship. Or it’s supposed to be. I just broke the plank. Guess my pirates will have to chuck their enemies overboard instead of torturing them first.”

Jackie laughs, kicking the front door closed and setting her bags on the kitchen island. “You don’t have school?”

“That ended a few weeks ago.”

Thank God.I barely passed, but it’s a huge relief. Now I need to figure out if I’ll continue next semester and what the hell I’ll study.

Leaving her bags, Jackie flops onto the couch behind me, flicking her red bangs that have grown out. Her outfit is a sleeveless top with an 80s metal band on it, the front French-tucked into her faded, ripped jeans.

I smile at her.

“What?” she asks, exhaling like she’s happy to be under air conditioning. Even though it’s the morning, the summer days are getting warmer.

“I bet you didn’t actually dress like that in the eighties.”

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