Page 46 of Back to Me

“Okay…” I urge her on, wondering where she’s going with this and how this could turn into Allison being a liar.

“Graham.” Roughly pressing her palm onto the wood table top, she bores her eyes into mine. “The room was covered with charcoal. Every single fucking piece of art up in that studio was drawn in charcoal.”

My heart sinks, dropping to the pit of my stomach. The blood drains from my face, unsure whether I had heard her right. Allison had talked down to Sara for so many years for her choice in using charcoal. And here she was, all along, using the same method. What a bitch.

“Are you serious?” I ask with bated breath.

She nods vigorously. I can see the images replaying through her mind. I know she’s repeating everything that happened between them this morning, and my heart hurts for her.

“Yeah, I couldn’t believe it.” Holding her hand out, she adds, “There I stood, in the middle of the room, staring at all the lies. The crazy part is, she didn’t even look ashamed or embarrassed by any of it.”

“You had no idea she was doing this?”

“No,” she says, shaking her head. “She always forbade me to go up in the studio.”

Our conversation from earlier dissolved, both of us withdrawing from our battle and returning to the same team. Resting my chin in my hand, I raise my free arm, raking my fingers through her hair.

“I’m sorry. Did you ask her why she kept it a secret from you?”

“No. I don’t think I want to know the answer, anyway.”

“Yeah, maybe you’re right.” I pause, thinking about the irony of this whole situation. Why would Allison go through all the trouble of keeping this a secret? What could she possibly gain from treating Sara this way? I bite back the temptation to press Sara for more information. She’s already visibly upset, and the last thing I want to do is nitpick every single detail why Allison would be so cruel.

With the tip of her fingernail, Sara picks at the wooden picnic table. Watching the sadness spread across her face, my chest twists with a kind of pain I haven’t felt before—pain knowing how much this job meant to her. A heavy breath passes my lips, wondering how she’s going to finish out her two weeks, knowing what she knows now. I can't even imagine the types of situations Allison would put her under.

“How are you going to handle these last two weeks with her? How did she take your resignation letter?”

Keeping her focus on the table, she picks out a small piece of wood and twirls it between her fingers. “I’m not going back,” she mutters. “Once I brought up the charcoal, she pretty much kicked me out.”

“I’m so sorry.” Lifting my fingers, I tuck a few loose strands of her hair behind her ear. Despite Allison’s deceit, I know Sara’s crushed about losing this job.

Looking back up to me, her painted lips turn up into a weak smile. “At least we still have the exhibit, right?”

“Yeah. We do,” I laugh, but there’s no real humor behind it. I know this opportunity is huge for us and could open so many doors. But doubt creeps in with the fear. What if it doesn’t work out? What if I somehow fail us both? All the questions and insecurities suddenly spill into me in a gigantic, monumental wave as if I’m carrying the weight of both mine and Sara’s success in the palm of my hand. The truth is, I am.

Unwilling to let our uncertain future break what is already so fragile, I pull Sara closer, mustering up some reassurance. As I press my lips to hers, I’m questioning whether the reassurance was for her or me.

Breaking the silence, my phone vibrates on the table, my sister’s face filling the screen. She’s video calling me, and while she waits for me to answer, I smile, watching her stick her tongue out and cross her eyes. Whenever I receive a video call, I can see what the other person is doing as they wait for me to answer. This is what Em does every time she video chats with me, either makes silly faces or directs her camera on her dog, Chloe.

“Answer it,” Sara says as a small smile appears across her sad face.

“I can call her back,” I offer.

"No, answer it." Placing her hand on my wrist, she adds, "She's my best friend. I want to talk to her."

Holding my phone in front of us, I take a deep breath and swipe my screen.

"Hey, Em!"

"You finally answered," she laughs. "I thought my tongue was going to fall off with how long I had to sit like that."

I shake my head and roll my eyes. "You don't have to do that every time, you know."

"Whatever," she shrugs. "It makes it a little more fun that way."

"Hey, Em." Dipping her head to the side, Sara enters the view of the video chat and waves.

Em's face immediately lights up. "Sara! I didn't know you were with Graham right now. Are you still on your lunch break? How’s work?"

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