Page 106 of Fallen Stars

“What the fuck are you doing here?”

“Levi,” Father snaps.

“Jefferson,” Mom retorts.

“I… uh…” Every ounce of light vanishes from Abigail’s eyes. “Your parents thought?—”

“Thought what?” I cut her off, my eyes darting to my mother then my father. “Maybe we can mold Levi into someone he’s not because he’s fucked in the head,” I say in a mocking tone as I wave my hands. “Maybe he’ll forget who he was, and we can manipulate him into whatwewant.”

“Levi…” Devastation blankets my name as Mom reaches for my hand.

Shoving back in my chair, it topples to the floor as I stand. “No!” One wobbly step followed by another, I back away from the table and shake my head as my eyes go from one person to the next. “I’m not a goddamn puppet.” I slap a hand to my chest and fist the fabric. Close my eyes, take a deep breath, then open them on the exhale. “Don’t use my abduction as a tool to turn me into someone I’m not.”

“Son, we aren’t?—”

“Yes”—I aim all my anger at my father and his deadpan expression—“you are.” I drag my fingers through my hair and savagely tug the strands. “Why the fuck is she here?” I thrust ahand toward Abigail. “She isn’tfamily.She doesn’t belong at this table.”

Mom scoots her chair back and slowly stands. “We just thought it’d be nice to have someone familiar at dinner.”

Fury ripples through my body and I visibly shake as I take another step away from the table. “Then invite my fucking boyfriend,” I grit out.

“The way you let him go…” Mom shakes her head. “We weren’t sure…”

I can’t be here anymore. Imprisoned and having people forced upon me, it’s almost worse than that dark, dingy cell.

Without a second thought, I spin on my heel, stagger on the first few steps, then regain my footing as I dash for the front door. Footsteps echo in the foyer as my name floats through the air on repeat. I ignore them, push harder, whip the door open, and step outside.

I suck in a sharp breath as the brisk September air hits my skin. Streaks of pink and orange paint the sky as the sun dips below the horizon. My eyes dart from one car to the next in front of the main house and I mentally stumble over what to do now.

My feet trudge forward of their own accord. Down the steps, past the line of cars, along the drive, I put one foot in front of the other. I pick up speed and put as much distance as possible between me and the house.

I veer left, abandon the driveway, and traverse the manicured lawn. Goose bumps dance over my skin as I spot the pool house several yards away. Cicadas chirp as I reach the forestry surrounding the West property and enter the woods. Sticks and foliage crunch beneath my bare feet as I weave through the trees. Crisp, piney air fills my lungs and energizes my soul as I move on faster feet.

Streetlights peek through the trees. The hum of passing cars hits my ears as I approach the property fence. Following theeight-foot chain link, I stare through the trees on the opposite side and look for a landmark. When the soft glow of Poke the Yolk’s sign comes into view, I scale the fence.

Unsure where to go, I wander along Chalcedony and stare inside businesses as I pass. Many on this stretch of the road are closed now, but some stores and restaurants are brightly lit with patrons coming and going.

It’s calm. Desolate. Quiet.

Too quiet.

When I reach Garnet, I go right and cut over to Granite. People mill about the sidewalk. Cars occupy most of the parking spaces along the street. The cacophony of countless conversations mingles with a hint of music.

Earlier this week, Dr. Hampton said crowds and loud noise were something I needed to ease into. That they may frighten or disorient me. Trigger bad memories.

But as I stand in the middle of dozens of residents and visitors, all I feel in this moment is free. As people pass me on the sidewalk and pay me no attention, all I am isnormal.Just Levi.

I pause, close my eyes, and inhale deeply. Let the hustle of everyday life blanket me head to toe. Let it restore one of a thousand facets of my life.

God, I’ve missed this.

Being average and inconsequential.

On my next breath, I zero in on the faint sound of music. Angle my head and figure out where it’s coming from.

Eyes popping open, I trek down the sidewalk with unfamiliar speed and determination. My pulse whooshes in my ears and the muscles in my legs are on fire as I dart through the crowd. Thethump, thump, thumpof a bass drum reverberates in the air as I near Sloppy’s BBQ.

I know that bassline.

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