Page 10 of A Heart So Haunted
“Didn’t you have some work to finish up?” He’d uprooted himself to help me. I couldn’t expect him to throw away all responsibility.
“Lan, it’s Saturday.”
I sighed. “Good point. But I’d rather go myself.”
He set the paper down. A long pause. Then, “I’m sorry that you didn’t get to see her first.”
I chewed the inside of my lip, bit down until the skin pulled away and I tasted blood. That burn brewed again, this time so deep in the back of my skull that I was scared if I blinked that the tears would fall immediately.
I managed a slight nod. I wished I’d been able to see her one last time, too. But I hadn’t. And there was nothing I could do about it.
Guilt—that’s what the burning was. Guilt that I’d wiped my hands of my family in an effort to keep the hurt at bay, if only a little while longer. What I hadn’t banked on was Cadence being taken so soon without any preliminary health problems—that were known, anyway.
A heart attack, the doctor said. Someone had requested a welfare check when a phone call hadn’t been returned, is what the officer said. She’d been found that following Monday, on the rug in the office.
The timing had been almost eerie. I’d just finished a job close to Charleston when I’d gotten the call that she’d passed.
Now, with free housing for the summer, all my belongings were stuffed in a storage unit an hour away. I’d given up my apartment, my work schedule, everything to take care of this.
To come back here.
“Do you think you’ll see him?” Sayer whispered, as if he could hear my thoughts.
“You’re asking all the hard questions.” I picked at a hangnail instead of looking at him.
“I ask because I care.”
Another tight-lipped nod. “Maybe.” Maybe not. I tried to stifle the tiny flutter at the thought. But it might not happen—a lot of our graduating class had moved, like myself, after school. For college or jobs or family.
I tried to keep my browser history empty of his name, either way.
“Hopefully not,” I said. Then I stood. “It’s only a few months, anyway. If I do, I don’t care. What’s done is done.”
“Lan—”
“I don’t have a choice,” I bit. The words were painful in my throat.
“We can still—”
The doorbell rang like a gong through the house.
Thank God. I never thought I’d be so thankful for another casserole in my entire life. I pushed back from the table, leaving the list behind for Sayer to examine. “I’ll get it.”
I sensed his eyes following me as I walked out.
My sandals whispered over the ornate runners before I reached the front door. Only a faded figure was visible through the frosted glass. Probably another casserole dish—or even a pie—that I didn’t have room for.
I patted my hot cheeks in an effort to calm down, then opened the door.
“Hello—”
“Landry!” a voice shrieked.
A body slammed into mine. Saturated vanilla and peony drenched my nostrils. My joints locked. I knew this smell—this touch. The blond hair that poked my eyes and stuck to my mouth.
“Emma?” I pulled back.
“Surprise!” My half sister’s gold bracelets shook with jazz hands, those familiar, rich eyes sparkling like seltzer water.
