“This is our house!”
“No,” I said quietly, coming to my feet. “This is a nice house, but—”
“No!” she screeched as she launched her doll across the room. The face cracked and a leg fell off.
“No! No!”
I winced and rubbed my temple. “Olivia, knock it off. My head is pounding.”
“No! I don’t wanna leave! Ms. Liz—” My temper snapped. “Ms. Liz isn’t your mom, Olivia. Your mom is upstairs! And if I say we have to leave, then we have to!”
Like a mini-volcano, Olivia erupted into a fit of screams and tears. For someone so small, she could make a lot of noise. Seeing her like this didn’t make me feel good. I felt terrible, like some kind of evil creature hell-bent on destroying all her dreams.
She hit the floor, stomping her feet.
I tried to get her to stop, but not being able to touch her complicated the whole process. So I stood by helplessly, hoping she’d just tire herself.
“Is everything okay? Sounds like a freight train coming through the house.”
A slender, dark-haired, and neatly-polished woman stood in the doorway.
It seemed a switch was thrown; Olivia’s temper tantrum shut off. Now on her feet, her eyes fastened on the woman. “Ms. Liz! I don’t wanna leave.”
Liz smiled fondly. “Honey, you don’t have to leave. I’ve told you already. This is your home as long as you want it to be.”
I snapped. “Shut up! Stop telling her that. This isn’t her home. You aren’t her mother!”
She blinked, taking a step back. “I’m not trying to take your mother’s place, Ember.”
“Bullshit.” Anger and something akin to hatred boiled through me. I stalked across the floor.
Olivia darted in front of me, cutting me off before I could reach Liz. She held out her arms, wiggling her fingers. In one quick swoop, Liz cradled Olivia in her arms.
I froze mere feet from the two. Olivia reached up and wrapped her arms around Liz’s neck. A hot, fierce emotion cut though me and stole my breath. Betrayal. I recognized the stupidity behind the emotion.
Olivia didn’t know what she was doing, but whatever fight I had left burned out.
“What’s going on in here?” Cromwell asked, standing behind Liz.
“Ember wants to leave,” Olivia said. “Do I have to leave?”
Cromwell stepped into the room, resting his hand on Olivia’s back. “No. You don’t have to leave.
Ember is just tired and confused. Perhaps she should make it an early night. I’m sure she’ll feel better in the morning.”
Olivia pushed her head into the crook of Liz’s neck. She mumbled something, but I couldn’t hear her.
There was a buzzing in my ears, a sick feeling in my stomach. Head down, I darted around them. I walked down the wide hallway, and then bolted up the stairs. My heart felt as if it would shatter into a million pieces.
Once inside my bedroom, I slammed the door shut behind me. Once. Then twice. Doing that always made me feel better whenever I’d gotten into an argument with my parents.
I didn’t feel better now.
Slowly, I slid down the closed door and gulped in air. I’d lost control of Olivia to complete strangers in a matter of minutes. And they hated my guts and planned on shipping me off to some godforsaken place the moment I made the wrong move.
Chapter 7
I hardly slept—big surprise there.
The sun had barely crested the mountains when I climbed out of bed. Unsure of why, I’d searched the quiet house for the room my mom had been placed in, my hands shoved into the front pocket of my hoodie.
She sat in a rocking chair, staring out a large picture window overlooking the front yard. Limp curls hung around her pale face. The vibrancy in her hair seemed to have dulled since yesterday. Beside her was an untouched glass of water.
Ignoring the raw ache in my chest, I crossed the room and sat down cross-legged next to her, resting my chin in my hand. “There’s something wrong here.” I stopped and laughed wearily. “Besides the obvious. But he has these kids here and they hate me. And I think they all can do things.”
Silence.
“This lady wants to make Olivia her own daughter. That should bother you, Mom. She’s cramping your space.”
Mom blinked.
I wondered if that was some form of communication—like Morse code or something. “They’ve been watching us for two years. It’s really creepy.”
I liked to think Mom agreed.
“Olivia doesn’t want to leave. She practically picked sides last night. I know she doesn’t understand, and all she sees are new toys and people who can touch her.”
She let out a little sigh.
I looked up at her, frowning. “I don’t know what to do. There’s going to be no way I can get Olivia out of this house, and even if I did, where would we go? Everything is gone, Mom.”
Still, there was no response.
I sighed again. “Mom, you know I’m not dead, right? I did die, but I’m not dead. I’m sitting here, right in front of you, and… and I don’t know what to do. I don’t know if I should stay here or try to make a run for it with Olivia. I don’t even know where the damn keys to my car are, or if my car is even here.”
She rested her head back and closed her eyes, humming the same song Olivia did.
“And Olivia really does like it here. She’s getting so much attention and I’ve never seen her happier…” I trailed off, closing my own eyes. “I’m sorry for picking seafood that night. I knew you wanted to go home. I was so mad, because you and Dad were arguing. If I’d just kept my mouth shut, none of this would’ve happened.”
Mom stopped humming, but didn’t respond.
I pulled my knees up and rested my head on them. Giving up on the one-sided conversation, I stayed quiet. After a while, I headed downstairs. I really had no idea where I was going. Hunger gnawed at my stomach, but I was afraid someone would be in the kitchen again. So I found myself staring at the front door. Freedom seemed just a doorknob-turn away.
When I did open the door, freedom didn’t wait—a half-naked Hayden did.
Damp hair curled around his forehead and flushed cheeks. He was shirtless. Absolutely naked from the low-hanging jogging pants up. A music player was attached to one of his biceps, and a low hum came from the earbuds.
Hayden pulled the earbuds out, smiling. “Hey. You’re up early.”
My throat felt dry. “Yeah.”
“Were you going outside?”
Instead of answering, my eyes dropped. He was an obvious runner. Skin stretched over taut muscles, slender hips, and a very hard-looking chest—and wow, it was a nice chest. My cheeks suddenly felt hot.
“Ember?”
I forced my eyes up. He was smiling that lopsided grin. “What?”
“Were you going outside?” He slid the music player off his arm and started to wrap the earbuds around it. “This early?”
“Yes. I thought…” I inhaled. Huge mistake. Autumn leaves and something wild teased my senses. He smelled wonderful. The sudden urge to touch him hit me hard.
“You thought what?”
What was I thinking? I couldn’t touch him. And I didn’t want to. “You’re not supposed to be talking to me.”
He frowned. “What?”
