Page 64 of Another Girl Lost

“Make him like you and we’ll escape together.”

I burrowed deeper into the hash mark. “I’ll try.”

“I knew you were smart.”

Chapter Twenty

SCARLETT

Monday, July 15, 2024

9:30 a.m.

I was running late for my appointment with the real estate agent who I’d hired to sell my mother’s home. My mother had died of a stroke six months ago. A stroke wasn’t normal in a fifty-one-year-old woman, but Mom’s doctors had theorized years of alcohol and drug abuse had taken their toll. My mother had lingered longer than anyone had expected. She’d been transferred to assisted living, where her body had been atrophying. She was trapped in her own dark room. And then she’d died suddenly in her sleep. The doctors said that she’d simply stopped breathing.

Because there was no will, the home had been put in probate, but it had finally cleared, and I was free to sell the house.

When I pulled up in front of the brick three-story home, the Realtor was waiting. She was dressed in a red linen suit, and she’d swept her black hair up into a styled ponytail. My mother loved that color of red and often talked about the fancy clothes she wore and how she used to dress up before she met my father. When Dad moved out, I was about four, and Mom was left with only me to hear her complaints about a lifelost to marriage and motherhood. Oddly, in that dark basement prison, I’d missed those complaints.

I glanced at my graphic T-shirt, ripped jeans, and Converse sneakers. My mind buzzed with Mom’s guaranteed comparisons of my outfit versus the Realtor’s.

Ragamuffin.The word would’ve drawn out slowly as she’d sipped a gin gimlet, her go-to after too much coke.

“Ms. Crosby,” Elaine said.

I smiled, glancing toward the old house across the street where I’d first seen Tanner. The grass was freshly cut, the gardens weeded, and pansies filled the iron planters on the front porch.

I had decided to sell Mom’s house immediately. I’d ordered a dumpster and hired moving crews. What didn’t go to the Goodwill ended up in the trash. I’d been oddly detached as I’d tossed all the old clothes from my mother’s closet, the few family pictures, and all the decorative knickknacks. I’d ripped down the thick satin curtains my mother had adored and tossed them into the dumpster along with dozens of throw pillows and rugs. The movers and I had worked for two days, pitching everything.

My mother would’ve been horrified seeing her frippery discarded. She’d said her things were like anchors that kept her rooted to this world. Only, they’d failed her. She’d lost touch with the world when I was missing.

“The place looks great.”

Elaine smiled. “I did a bit of sprucing up. Cleaning crews went through the inside and made it sparkle. It now smells like pine cleaner and fresh air.”

Scents of vodka and cigarettes long trapped in the closed house had finally been released. “That’s great. You’re having the open house soon?”

“The listing went live yesterday, and the open house is on Saturday. I expect the property will sell quickly.”

“Wonderful.”

“I was sorry to hear about your mother. I know it must be difficult.”

“Thank you.” When I heard she’d died, I hadn’t reacted. I guessed one day I would, but so far nothing. She hadn’t missed me, and I wasn’t missing her.

The house still needed major renovations, but it was good enough for a buyer in search of a fixer-upper.

The real estate market was decent, and I hoped the house would sell before prices tumbled as all the pundits predicted. The money would cover the remaining hospital and nursing home bills. In the end, the goal was simply to break even.

“Would you like me to give you the grand tour?” Elaine said.

“If you don’t mind, I’d like to walk through the house by myself. Kind of a last goodbye.”

“Of course, hon. I know this must be emotional.”

As I walked through the front door, footsteps echoed. I was amazed at how the light had transformed the interior. It looked larger, but there was a great deal of familiar—the molding, the arched doorways, the iron on the windows. They all reminded me of the house I’d lived in from ages ten to sixteen.

Before Tanner took me, I’d been drawn to him. As I’d sat in my room in my mother’s house, I didn’t expect, but kind of hoped, to find him watching my room. His attention in the before days had been exciting.

---