and told to go to class with promises that he would handle everything for me. I didn’t know what that meant, I didn’t know how he could help, but I was exhausted, so exhausted … so I trusted the man.
I sat in class, in a daze, staring off into space until Sister Abigail shouted my name. My eyes sought her out in the front of the classroom as she studied me, raising her eyebrows. “You need to go to the principal’s office, Grace.”
Rolling my eyes, I stood up, shoving my hands in the pockets of the hoodie as I stalked toward the door. The last thing I cared about was another dress code violation lecture. I made my way to the front office, pushing the door open without knocking, sighing exasperatedly when I did. “Look, I’m not taking off the hoodie, okay?”
“Okay.”
The voice that responded was not a voice I knew. I looked up, seeing a pair of bright blue eyes that I’d almost call kind if it weren’t for the badge hanging around the guy’s neck they were attached to. My eyes narrowed as my gaze darted straight to the principal. “This is your idea of helping ?”
He held his hands up defensively.
The stranger chimed in. “Grace Elizabeth Callaghan?”
“Yes.” I turn to him. “But I’m sure you already knew that.”
The man smiled knowingly as he held out a hand for me to shake. “Grace, I’m with the U.S. Marshals Service … and you and I need to have a conversation.”
***
The apartment is dark.
No lights shine from the windows, no shadows moving around inside. It blends in with the blackness blanketing the eerily quiet neighborhood. It’s closing in on midnight and I have nowhere to go.
I’ve got some cash left but not a credit card. Nobody will rent me a room. I have no friends in this city, no family left, nothing except for a life I abandoned up in that apartment.
Jumping up, I grab the ladder for the fire escape, yanking it down. I struggle a bit, trying to get my footing on the metal rungs, but I carefully climb up. I try to be as quiet as possible, not wanting to disturb any of the neighbors as I scale the building, the whole way up to the fifth floor.
I pause there, crouching down on the dingy metal platform, and gaze in. It’s too dark for me to make out anything inside. Hesitating, contemplating, I press my hands to the cold glass of the window, pushing up on it, trying to get the thing to budge. The window sticks, barely shifting half an inch, but it’s just enough for me to slide my fingers underneath. Unlocked .
I struggle shoving it open, the wood groaning worse than ever before, but I manage to get it up enough to slide my body inside, out of the bitter cold.
My feet hit the wooden floor, and I close the window behind me, blocking out the cold. Turning around, I blink a few times, adjusting to the darkness, an overwhelming suffocation squeezing my chest when things come into focus.
It’s empty.
Completely empty .
I shouldn’t be surprised, and maybe I’m not, but it still takes me a moment to come to terms with that fact. The last time I was here, this place was packed full of belongings, my belongings, everything I’d been forced to leave behind. I wonder what they did with all of it. Donated it to charity? Destroyed it? Discarded it? Maybe they put it in a storage unit some place. I don’t know.
All I know is it’s gone.
Nothing’s here.
I don’t venture any further than the living room. I know it’ll all look the same. The bed where I once gave myself to Cody will be missing, my bucket list of dreams covering the walls ripped away, like none of it ever happened.
Like the girl I’d been never existed.
Pressing my back against the wall, I slide down to the floor, stretching my legs out in front of me. I’m exhausted. So exhausted . Everything feels so different; maybe too much changed.
Maybe, just maybe, this was a mistake.
I don’t know what I planned to accomplish by coming here. Like maybe I could prove Holden wrong, show him that all
I sat in class, in a daze, staring off into space until Sister Abigail shouted my name. My eyes sought her out in the front of the classroom as she studied me, raising her eyebrows. “You need to go to the principal’s office, Grace.”
Rolling my eyes, I stood up, shoving my hands in the pockets of the hoodie as I stalked toward the door. The last thing I cared about was another dress code violation lecture. I made my way to the front office, pushing the door open without knocking, sighing exasperatedly when I did. “Look, I’m not taking off the hoodie, okay?”
“Okay.”
The voice that responded was not a voice I knew. I looked up, seeing a pair of bright blue eyes that I’d almost call kind if it weren’t for the badge hanging around the guy’s neck they were attached to. My eyes narrowed as my gaze darted straight to the principal. “This is your idea of helping ?”
He held his hands up defensively.
The stranger chimed in. “Grace Elizabeth Callaghan?”
“Yes.” I turn to him. “But I’m sure you already knew that.”
The man smiled knowingly as he held out a hand for me to shake. “Grace, I’m with the U.S. Marshals Service … and you and I need to have a conversation.”
***
The apartment is dark.
No lights shine from the windows, no shadows moving around inside. It blends in with the blackness blanketing the eerily quiet neighborhood. It’s closing in on midnight and I have nowhere to go.
I’ve got some cash left but not a credit card. Nobody will rent me a room. I have no friends in this city, no family left, nothing except for a life I abandoned up in that apartment.
Jumping up, I grab the ladder for the fire escape, yanking it down. I struggle a bit, trying to get my footing on the metal rungs, but I carefully climb up. I try to be as quiet as possible, not wanting to disturb any of the neighbors as I scale the building, the whole way up to the fifth floor.
I pause there, crouching down on the dingy metal platform, and gaze in. It’s too dark for me to make out anything inside. Hesitating, contemplating, I press my hands to the cold glass of the window, pushing up on it, trying to get the thing to budge. The window sticks, barely shifting half an inch, but it’s just enough for me to slide my fingers underneath. Unlocked .
I struggle shoving it open, the wood groaning worse than ever before, but I manage to get it up enough to slide my body inside, out of the bitter cold.
My feet hit the wooden floor, and I close the window behind me, blocking out the cold. Turning around, I blink a few times, adjusting to the darkness, an overwhelming suffocation squeezing my chest when things come into focus.
It’s empty.
Completely empty .
I shouldn’t be surprised, and maybe I’m not, but it still takes me a moment to come to terms with that fact. The last time I was here, this place was packed full of belongings, my belongings, everything I’d been forced to leave behind. I wonder what they did with all of it. Donated it to charity? Destroyed it? Discarded it? Maybe they put it in a storage unit some place. I don’t know.
All I know is it’s gone.
Nothing’s here.
I don’t venture any further than the living room. I know it’ll all look the same. The bed where I once gave myself to Cody will be missing, my bucket list of dreams covering the walls ripped away, like none of it ever happened.
Like the girl I’d been never existed.
Pressing my back against the wall, I slide down to the floor, stretching my legs out in front of me. I’m exhausted. So exhausted . Everything feels so different; maybe too much changed.
Maybe, just maybe, this was a mistake.
I don’t know what I planned to accomplish by coming here. Like maybe I could prove Holden wrong, show him that all
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