Page 10 of The Rules We Broke
I could hear it—the tears catching in her throat. “Miss Ella, it’s your aunt. We think she had a heart attack.”
Please, God, please don’t let her be dead.
“She’s at St. Vincent’s in Birmingham. She’s asking for you.”
Thank you, God.
I didn’t hesitate. “Tell her I’m on my way.” I hung up before she could say another word. All I cared about was getting to Aunt Lu.
I jumped out of bed and dressed in record time. While running a brush through my hair, I threw together a suitcase—just in case. Atlanta was only three hours from Birmingham, but I didn’t know what waited for me on the other end. If she was at St. Vincent’s, it was serious. Otherwise, she would’ve been at Kaysville General.
I opened the garage door, and a blast of icy air hit me square in the chest.
December in Georgia wasn’t usually this cold. I considered grabbing my long wool coat, but decided against it. I’d either be in my car or in a hospital room—I just needed to get to my aunt.
I tossed my suitcase in the back and slid into the driver’s seat of my recently purchased BMW—a gift to myself afterAunt Calliope and Jane in Londonhit number one on theNew York Timesbestseller list for Children’s Picture Books. The thought made my throat tighten. All my stories—every single one—were based on the adventures I shared with Aunt Lu. And now, she was lying in a hospital bed.
I didn’t know what I would do without her. She was the only person who’d ever truly loved me.
I hit the highway and tested the limits of what my new car could do. The salesman at the car dealership was right—she was fast and smooth. With only the hum of the engine as my only company, I got lost in my thoughts, trying not to think the worst. I kept reminding myself that Aunt Lu was a tough old bird, albeit a beautiful, classy one. No doubt even death would be afraid to come knocking on her door. Afraid of what she would do to it.
But before I knew it, the Alabama state line came into view. And everything inside me sank. I hated coming back. I usually avoided it at all costs. This state—my home state—every mileheld a ghost. Every road led back to something I didn’t want to remember.
I still saw Aunt Lu all the time, but it was usually in Atlanta or tucked away in some tropical vacation. I hadn’t been to my childhood home since I graduated from high school. Aunt Lu agreed that I should leave and never come back. She said Kaysville had a way of sucking the life out of people.
I had asked her several times to move in with me. Her excuse for never accepting was that she was old and set in her ways, but I knew better. To her, moving would be like saying the Jacksons had won, and she wouldn’t ever let that happen.
The Jacksons.That was one name I wished I could forget. Everything about Alabama whispered reminders of them.
If only I had followed the rules. Maybe things would be different now. Even though I’d left, I had never managed to forget them.
No matter how hard I’d tried over the years.
I considered moving farther than Atlanta. But my agent and publisher were both there. More than that—I couldn’t stand the idea of being too far from Aunt Lu. Atlanta still held echoes of the past, but at least it was better than when I lived in Auburn while attending school.
Oh, well—it didn’t matter. The only thing that mattered now was getting to the hospital. Yet, one particular Jackson refused to leave my thoughts, no matter how hard I tried to shove him out. His memory clung to me like a parasite—unwanted and relentless. If there were a cure for it, I’d have paid anything. Gladly.
I cranked up the radio—desperate to distract myself. To keep my mind where it needed to be. On Aunt Lu.
And for a little while, the noise worked.
Until I passed a sign that read: Auburn — Next Exit.
I felt the sting of regret. Four years in that town, wishing I’d gone anywhere else.But Aunt Lu had her heart set on me attending her alma mater. And I hadn’t had the heart to say no.
Unfortunately, when your school’s biggest rival is home to the star quarterback, who also happens to be your ex-boyfriend, there’s no escaping his name. It was everywhere—school paper, local news, casual conversations overheard in the dining hall.
To make matters worse, his new girlfriend, Amber Capshaw, was just as famous. Pageant royalty. Queen of every room.
I glanced at the speedometer. I was going way too fast.
Thinking about the Jacksons and the Capshaws while behind the wheel—especially today—was a dangerous combination. But that was what being in Alabama did to me. It twisted memory into distraction. Grief into velocity.
I eased off the pedal just as a green highway sign flashed by: Tuscaloosa— Home of the University of Alabama.
Of course.
I didn’t need this.
