Page 49 of Shattered Chords

Instinctively, my gaze shot up to the decorative round clock on the wall. The time was almost eight.

“It’s late, Ally,” I said, examining her tank top, particularly the number of holes it bore.

“It’s summer, Mom.” She was already near the door.

“Wait a second.” I marched over to her. “Where are you going?”

“Just grabbing some milkshakes and fries.”

“Who are you going with?”

“Pauline and some friends.” Her face stayed perfectly still and, to my horror, I couldn’t tell whether she was lying.

“Who are these friends?”

“Mom, seriously?” Ally cringed as if I’d asked her something utterly outrageous.

“Who’s driving?”

“Cal.”

A small amount of relief flowed through me. Cal was harmless. “Who else?” I peered outside as she swung the door open. My driveway was crammed with my own 4Runner and Harper’s Jaguar.

“Mom, come on. Don’t be embarrassing.” She hopped down the stairs and ran for the car parked by the curb. It was a silver Honda, a model that was a couple of years old at least. Loud rock music blasting from the vehicle pressed against the quiet of the neighborhood like darkness against light.

“Be home by ten,” I warned, straining my vision to see past the tangle of lemon tree branches that obstructed my view of the car. All I made out was four heads. And some wild laughing.

“Eleven,” Ally responded, her voice determined. Then she ducked inside the Honda and the kids took off.

I stood immobile and stared at the empty street until the sound of Harper’s footfalls moving through the room brought me back to reality.

“Hey, sweets. I’m exhausted.” He rested his hand on my shoulder and gave it a squeeze. “You going to be okay if I head out?”

“Yeah. Sure.” I nodded. “Thank you for helping today.” Never mind the fact that it was wholly his idea.

“It was fun.” Harper smiled softly. “And I needed it.”

Silent understanding passed between us. He was still going through the motions of a post-relationship heartbreak and as much as he tried to hide his misery, it poured out of him like water from a tipped over glass. I felt its heavy presence and my skin crawled.

“See you at work,” Harper blurted out and strode to his Jaguar.

“See you at work.” I gave him a wave and watched him maneuver out of my driveway, then went back inside, took a much-needed shower, and settled in front of the TV to wait for Ally. Halfway through the movie, exhaustion knocked me out and when I startled awake several hours later, Ally was still gone, her room empty and devoid of life.

The AC had cooled the house enough that I shivered as I called her cell. She didn’t pick up. Instead, I was greeted with the voicemail recording.

It was quarter to midnight when a car rumbled outside in the street, and soon after, the noise became an obvious blend of music and excited laughter. I almost stepped onto the porch but remembered what I was wearing—a silk robe that hardly covered my thighs—and decided against further investigation. Moments later, footsteps sounded across the front yard. They were unmistakably Ally’s, tiny and sure. She shouted something into the night and several voices responded.

The front door flung open and she appeared in the living room, makeup intact, hair in place.

“I thought we agreed on ten,” I said sternly.

“Eleven,” she countered, hardly slowing down.

“Ally!” I raised my voice. “Please stop for a second.”

She did as I requested, her back still to me.

“Can we talk face-to-face?”

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