Total pages in book: 77
Estimated words: 77126 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 386(@200wpm)___ 309(@250wpm)___ 257(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 77126 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 386(@200wpm)___ 309(@250wpm)___ 257(@300wpm)
There isn’t one.
“Who’s there?” I whisper as harshly as I can.
But no way are they going to be able to hear me.
So I knock on the wall. Lightly at first.
Nothing.
Then I knock again, this time louder. Knock. Knock. Knock.
And then…
“Is…someone there?”
The tone is weak, and the voice is scratchy. It’s female, and it sounds like an older woman. An elderly woman, even.
Perhaps the old woman whose photograph has haunted me since the plane ride to Colombia?
How do I respond?
“Yes. I’m a friend. Here to help you out.”
She doesn’t respond. Maybe she didn’t hear me.
I walk along the wall until I get to the back of the house. And—
“Yes!” I whisper.
It’s a door. A slider, and it’s locked, of course, but at least I know how I can get in.
On a whim, I try the key Daniela gave me. It doesn’t work.
“Hello,” I say. “Can you hear me?”
“Are you really here to help me?”
“Yes, I am. Can you open the door?”
“It’s locked,” she says.
I sigh. Of course it is.
I look around with something to unlock the door with. My eyes have adjusted to the darkness, and I spy a rusted toolbox. I approach it and crack open the lid. The tools are as rusty as the old metal box. Pliers, a hammer, lots of screws and nuts…and a long screwdriver. I can use it to jimmy the lock.
I return to the door and kneel to start working the lock. The faint sound of metal grating on metal fills the air as I gently maneuver the screwdriver, attempting to unlatch the bolt that seals the door shut.
“Are you still there?” the woman’s voice pierces through my concentration.
“Yes,” I whisper back. “I’m trying to open the door.”
I return my attention to the stubborn lock. Just as my patience begins to wane…a soft click. Tension eases in the door as relief washes over me.
“I’ve got it,” I whisper to myself. I slide the door open and look into the dim room. Only a bed and a chair, and on the bed lies a frail woman, her hair white as snow and her eyes shimmering.
It’s her. The old woman from the photos.
Her eyes widen as she looks me up and down.
“Mario?”
17
RAVEN
Igulp back the sadness that attempts to overtake me.
Vinnie is back.
And he’s with a woman.
Not just any woman, but a young and beautiful woman with flowing black hair and big dark eyes. Her skin is a shade darker than mine, and her lips are full and ruby red.
And her dress…
Black. Black velvet and slimming. Showing off an amazing body. Not to mention her ass.
My heart sinks. Has he truly forgotten me so quickly?
I gulp.
Hawk walks toward me. “Ray? You need to hold it together.”
“Who is that with him?” I demand.
“I don’t know, sis. And it doesn’t matter.” He wraps his arm around my shoulders, giving them a squeeze, but I see in his eyes that he finds Vinnie’s companion quite attractive. “Tonight is your night. Tonight is the night you’ve worked your ass off for. And you look beautiful.”
I let my hand wander up to my short hair. I hate the fact that I’m envious of her long, gorgeous locks.
Was I seriously just thinking I might keep my hair short?
No, I want my long flowing hair back. I want my long thick eyelashes back.
I want my long and lean body back.
I’m still too thin. I haven’t regained all of my muscle mass. That will take a while.
But the woman with Vinnie? Her body is perfection. Perfect hourglass.
He never loved me.
He was lying.
As much as I adore Savannah, her brother turned out to be just another jerk.
Not that she would know. He was gone for seventeen years. Savannah was only ten when he left for Europe. She may remember him as a loving older brother, but he’s no longer that person.
How did this happen?
“Don’t let it get to you,” Hawk says again. “Emily’s about to make an announcement that we need to get to our tables for dinner. After dinner, you’re going to have to make your speech. Are you up for it?”
I steel my resolve. I stand straight.
Push my shoulders back.
The superhero pose.
I had to imagine myself in that pose when I was in the hospital, but it’s something my mother taught Robbie and me when we were little girls. That we could be Wonder Woman if we wanted to. All we needed was confidence, and the first step was to look confident.
I take that pose now, and then I take Hawk’s arm and walk to our table at the front of the ballroom. I catch him taking a few extra glances at the woman on Vinnie’s arm, but I decide not to say anything. I’d rather not think of her right now.
Falcon and Savannah, Robin, Emily, Mom and Dad, Hawk and I, and Eagle are seated here.