Total pages in book: 124
Estimated words: 121578 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 608(@200wpm)___ 486(@250wpm)___ 405(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 121578 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 608(@200wpm)___ 486(@250wpm)___ 405(@300wpm)
I slide my gaze back to the table. To the sheet tucked under a pale chin. Freckled cheeks. A wild mop of messy brown hair.
Recognition flips my tummy upside down. I gasp loud enough to draw my mother’s attention.
“Margot!” Her eyes widen and she hurries toward me, blocking my view.
“Is that…is that…Hoyt Harris?” The boy who lives down the street. We play together in his backyard and walk to the bus stop together. His mom is nice and makes us oatmeal cookies with chocolate chips instead of nasty raisins. Hoyt never makes fun of me and isn’t scared of my house. He even lets me play with his Hot Wheels and doesn’t think it’s weird that a girl likes cars.
“What are you doing down here?” my father asks, his voice low and calm.
“I heard noises.” I tilt to the side, trying to peer around my mother, but she rests her hands on my shoulders, stopping me. “Who is that, Momma? What happened?”
“You should go back to bed, Margot.”
Curiosity, too painful to ignore, pushes me out of my mother’s grasp and I hurry toward the table.
Hoyt. But he doesn’t look like the same boy I play hide and seek with. The boy who can never contain his laughter while he’s supposed to be hiding.
But he’s not laughing now.
Or even breathing.
He’s still. So still he looks like a life-sized doll.
My nose tickles and my eyes burn. “Why? What happened?”
“You know how we always tell you not to go anywhere with strangers?” Daddy says.
“James!” Momma scolds. “Not now.”
“No, she needs to know this.” Daddy squats in front of me so we’re eye-level and grasps the tops of my arms. “It’s not just strangers. Even people you think are friendly can be dangerous. Never, ever go into anyone’s house without letting one of us know. Not for a minute. Understand?”
Numbly, I nod, but inside I’m a tangle of confusion and fear.
“Never get into anyone’s car, either,” he adds. “For any reason.”
I glance up at my mother. “I know. You told me.”
She clasps her hands together and stares at me. “We just love you and want you to be safe.”
I peer around Daddy to stare up at the table. “Is that what happened to him?” My small voice shakes. “He went into someone’s house without tellin’ his momma?”
Daddy clears his throat and pulls me away from the table, closer to Momma. “Something like that.”
“But why?” I choke on a sob.
Momma rests her hand on the top of my head, brushing my hair off of my forehead. “Sometimes bad things happen to good people, and it’s hard to understand. Hoyt was hurt by someone, and now he’s no longer with us. We’ll take special care of him.”
“Who hurt him?” My voice comes out small and squeaky. “Why? He was so nice.”
Momma and Daddy share a look.
“You know Mr. Gade?” Momma says.
My eyebrows pinch together. Mr. Gade lives a bunch of houses down the road. He’s weird but always hands us candy when we go by his yard.
“Don’t,” Daddy says, touching Momma’s arm. To me, he says, “The police have him. He won’t hurt anyone else.”
Tears burn my eyes. “What about Hoyt’s momma and daddy?”
Another sob escapes Momma. She closes her eyes briefly.
“We’ll do everything we can for them,” Daddy says.
“Can I say goodbye to Hoyt?” I stare up at the table.
“Yes. At the service,” Momma promises. “Now, come on. Back to bed.”
She settles one hand between my shoulders and presses, turning me toward the door. My throat tightens and my stomach churns. My heart pounds so loud it drowns out the sounds of my feet shuffling against the cold tile.
Momma doesn’t take her hand off me, guiding my steps as if she’s afraid I’ll return to Hoyt’s side. But the heavy feeling in my chest won’t allow me to move anywhere but forward.
Upstairs, Momma tucks me under my purple quilt with the rainbows and unicorns, tucking it under my chin and smoothing it out around me. The unicorns are such a bright white, I can practically see them glowing in the semi-darkness. She leans over and kisses my forehead. “Go back to sleep,” she murmurs. “I love you more than anything.”
“Love you too, Momma.” I curl my fingers in my quilt and pull it higher, then turn on my side.
My door quietly clicks closed behind her. Hoyt’s pale face and still form won’t leave my mind. My eyes pop open but staring into the darkness is even worse.
CHAPTER THREE
Jigsaw
Pants.
I need to put on my pants.
My brain might be slow to clunk its way into action, and it’s definitely having trouble instructing my body to move, but one thought keeps hammering against my skull—I can’t have this conversation with Margot while my dick’s swinging in the breeze.
“Can we…” I wave my arm toward the bedroom, but it doesn’t do anything to stop the prickling sensation creeping over my skin. “Talk about this in there? I’m not a big fan of enclosed spaces.” I don’t even give a fuck about admitting that to her. I just need to get out of this closet.