Somewhere Between Water and Sky (Shattered Things #2) by Elora Ramirez

turned into a hobby of his; he loves it so much. ”
    “ Your dad is a landlord as a hobby? ”
    She rolls her eyes. “ I know, right? He ’ s fucking brilliant. ” She waves her hands. “ All this? It ’ s how mom and dad paid for my education. Private school isn ’ t cheap. ”
    Walking past the person working the front desk she waves. I follow her, my head moving left and right, stalling at the line of framed photos on either side of the elevator doors.
    She pushes the button signaling that we ’ re going up and then looks at me.
    “ Oh. Right. Those are the movie stars who have lived here at some point. ”
    My eyes grow wide.
    “ Whoa. ”
    “ Yeah, unless you consider that when they lived here they were probably just trying to survive — I think the only people who lived here when they were in movies were like the ones from Old Hollywood. All the ones who have lived here in the past decade move out as soon as they get a movie deal worth a month ’ s rent somewhere else. ”
    The elevator dings and the doors open. Jessa steps in and then turns to face me. “ Next stop Casa de Jessa! ” She waves a card in front of the buttons.
    “ What are you doing? ”
    “ Oh. Dad gave me the penthouse. The elevator opens up to the condo, but I have to use this card. It ’ s like my key. ” She glances back up at me, still waiting outside, and she raises an eyebrow. “ You coming? ”
    I startle into movement, shaking my head as I walk into the elevator and take my place beside her.
    This is my life now, I think. But I don ’ t believe it. It hasn ’ t settled deep enough. I remember the tendrils of fear earlier today when Max pulled out my dad ’ s picture. I grip the bridge of my nose in between my thumb and index finger and squeeze.
    Just breathe, Stephanie.
    “ You okay? ”
    I feel Jessa ’ s hand lightly brush my arm.
    “ I ’ m fine. Just a headache. I think I need some water, that ’ s all. ” I look her in the eyes, keeping the worry at bay. But it only lasts for a second. I look away again, resting my head against the wood behind me.
    Hope always has this way of lingering — toying with my emotions and tickling my senses. But I ’ m constantly ripped back into reality. Unease ripples its way into my skin and I breathe through the tightening of my chest. Friendship is great, until they realize how fucked up you really are — how you ’ re just going to bring them down with you and your problems. Chinese take-out and pretending your life lacks the twists and knots of nights spent tied up in a shed only lasts long enough to remind you of what you don ’ t have: freedom. Because like hope, freedom tangles. It ’ s all just a mirage, and I ’ m the idiot who believed I got away. I suck in a breathe and let it out slowly, the realization inching into every pore.
    It ’ s only a matter of time before this all comes crashing down.

 
     
     
     
     
     
     
    Chapter Eight
     
    The elevator doors swing open and I gasp.
    “ Holy shit. Jessa, this is amazing. ”
    She laughs. “ Thanks. ”
    I pause before crossing the threshold, just taking in what ’ s in front of me: windows that stretch the entire wall and face the ocean.
    Seriously. I ’ m staring at the ocean. That ’ s what pushes me over the edge and into her apartment. I have to stand by those windows.
    I see a sitting area to my left and make my way toward the leather couch, falling against the coolness and noticing how the sun warms my limbs through the glass.
    “ That ’ s where I people watch. ”
    I shift my head up and see Jessa grabbing something from her fridge. She opens a cupboard and glances at me.
    “ Strawberry lemonade? ”
    I swallow, noticing how dry my throat is, and throw up a thumbs up. “ That sounds amazing, actually. ”
    I turn back toward the window.
    “ I would sit here and read. ”
    I hear her walking over to the couch and she sits by my feet, handing me a glass complete with chopped strawberries. She