Page 61 of All My Broken Pieces

My mom scoffs, “Understand what? That you’re with a…a…” She clears her throat before continuing. “What happened, Fallon? You know that’s a…” She trails off again, her voice pained.

Taking a deep breath, she whispers, “I’m worried about you.”

I gulp, fisting the fabric of my shirt in an attempt to calm some of the anxiety building inside. I know where this is going, and I don’t know if I have the strength to say no.

“You’re coming to church with us this Sunday.”

The elevator dings open to the lobby, the sound pulling me from my memory. Shaking myself, I exit the building and look around the darkened street.

My eyes land on a bar a couple blocks away and I find my feet moving before I make the conscious decision to do so.

One drink couldn’t hurt.

Chapter 28

Arriana

2 months later

One hundred and forty-four days and…

I glance at the clock sitting on the wall of the dining room.

Seventy-three minutes.

That’s how long it’s been since I was arrested.

I’m seriously regretting the decision to not listen to Andrew to take Fallon and run.

Not that I’lleveradmit that to him.

At first I was relieved when Andrew told me that my arrest was for assault and battery on Scarlett. The stupid bitchdeserved it, and that was easy enough for him to bribe my way out of.

However, that relief was quickly dashed when my mugshot ran through the system and was flagged in connection to Thomas’ murder.

Fucking bullshit.

The added level of severity to my crimes has made things more difficult to clear my name.

“Shouldn’t be much longer.” Andrew assures me.

I sigh, running a hand through my hair as I look over the small park we decided to meet at today. He’s been saying the same thing for the last three months with no luck. Changing the topic, I massage my aching shoulder as I ask, “How’s Fallon?”

Andrew’s eyes sadden before he shifts his gaze around the busy park. “Not great.” My heart cracks at his quiet words. “She’s staying with her brother, helping him during his recovery from what I’ve gathered, but…” His voice trails off as he rubs the back of his neck.

“But what?” I press, turning to fully face him.

Andrew flicks his eyes down before looking back up at me. “We just need to get you back home.” He says instead of answering my question.

I wasn’t able to get more information out of him at the time, and still haven’t nearly two months later.

Groaning, I push up from the table, snatching up my plate and making my way over to deposit the uneaten food into the trash. I’ve lost so much weight since being here I’m starting to grow concerned at my ability to still hold my own in a fight. I just can’t bring myself to shovel down the disgusting stuff Billie likes to call food, my nerves making me constantly nauseous aren’t helping matters either.

So much of my time here reminds me of the various foster homes I was forced into before Linda and Henry adoptedme. The disgusting food, the strict rules, and the horrible companions I find myself trapped behind these walls with.

“If it isn’t the psycho bitch.” A snide voice calls out behind me.

My back stiffens at the sound of Zandra’s voice. One such person who I’d love to let out some of my pent up frustration on, but knowing I can’t without jeopardizing my place here.

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