Total pages in book: 110
Estimated words: 104239 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 521(@200wpm)___ 417(@250wpm)___ 347(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 104239 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 521(@200wpm)___ 417(@250wpm)___ 347(@300wpm)
Just when I thought her mouth couldn’t drop open any farther. “Oh. You don’t know.”
I barely register Lucas’s hand on my shoulder. “What don’t I know?” I ask.
She comes closer, her mouth pulled down in an expression of sadness. “I’m sorry to be the one to tell you this, but she’s not with us anymore. She died a couple of weeks back.”
Lucas’s hand tightens while I struggle to make words come out of my mouth. When all I can manage is a choking sound, he speaks up. “What happened?”
She’s clearly overwhelmed by him for a few seconds but pulls it together. “I can’t say for sure. I heard it was pills. She took a bunch of them and never woke up. They found her in bed after a couple of days. We all figured she was sick, but eventually, we had the owner go in and check the place out.”
It isn’t like we had a close relationship. In fact, seeing her today was what I dreaded most about this.
But I expected her to be here. Alive. It doesn’t seem right, thinking about her not being alive and in front of her TV.
“We left everything the way it was,” she tells me. “And we’ve kind of been keeping an eye on the place to make sure nobody gets it in their head to break in. She’s paid up through the end of the month, you see. So it didn’t seem right to clean the place out yet. I guess you came along at the right time.”
“I guess so,” I whisper. I’m numb. I’m completely numb. I don’t even feel Lucas’s hand anymore, though I know it’s there. “Thanks for telling me.”
“We’re all real sorry, hon.” She shoots one final, curious look toward Lucas, and even now, in the middle of yet another shock, I can imagine how the trailer court will be talking about nothing but him for the rest of the day, if not into tomorrow. There’s nothing they love more than gossip.
I barely know what I’m doing as I turn back around and re-enter the trailer.
Lucas follows silently, only speaking once the door is closed. “Is there anything I can help you with? Do you want to get some boxes to pack up your belongings?”
“It’s funny. I barely remember why I wanted to come so badly.” It’s like I’m seeing everything through new eyes. The grimy windows, the chipped refrigerator, the broken cabinet doors. The sofa that sags in the middle thanks to the frame being broken forever ago. I don’t even remember it ever being intact.
I wonder how many surprises a person can take before they finally break.
“Delilah?” Lucas steps closer to me, and I can’t decide if I want to tell him to back off or beg him to hold me. I feel like I’m being pushed around by too many emotions. Grief. Shock. Regret. Confusion. I don’t know what to think or how to feel, or even how to take the next step.
I’m not even sure what the next step is.
“She said they left everything the way it was, right?” When Lucas only lets out a soft grunt, I go straight for the sofa.
“What are you doing?” he asks when I flip over the middle cushion.
“This was her favorite hiding spot,” I explain, pulling back the strip of duct tape positioned over a slit in the upholstery. “It tore by itself, but she used it to stash things. Money, usually.” I dip my hand inside, my fingers moving through the stuffing until they land on paper.
Only it’s not money. It’s an envelope with my name on it. I recognize her handwriting immediately, and a lump forms in my throat.
My fingers tremble as I open the envelope and pull out two pieces of paper with her familiar scrawl covering both sides. “Delilah,” I whisper, my eyes moving over the page. “You’ve been gone for weeks. No one will tell me where you are or what might have happened to you. I even went to your father’s house and heard what happened to the family.”
I gasp. “She went to him?” She must really have been desperate.
I keep reading, hungry for more. “Of course, I worried what happened to them would happen to you, too. Nobody could give me any answers, or they refused to. Either way, it’s had me worried about you—and me, too, since I’ve seen a couple of strangers wandering around where they shouldn’t be. Maybe I’m paranoid, I don’t know. That’s why I’m writing this letter and hiding it where I know you’ll find it if anything happens. I only hope you do before somebody tosses this piece of shit couch.” Funny, but I can almost hear her voice describing the beat-up old thing the way she always did.
I look up at Lucas, who doesn’t bother pretending he isn’t reading over my shoulder. “She thought the family was after her?” I whisper.