Page 10 of Faithful

I take a deep breath and shove the paranoia to the back of my mind. “I can’t talk about it.”

“Can’t or won’t?” Gin asks.

“Can’t.”

There’s a heavy sigh. “Do you need anything?”

“No. I do want to work. It’s just best I don’t show up at the office now.”

“Alright, I’ll see about finding you some assignments,” she says, caving. “But Dylan…”

“Yeah?”

“Promise me you’ll tell me if you’re in trouble.”

“I will, but I’m not in trouble. I swear.”

Once we disconnect, I sneak out of my room to check on my mother. She’s still asleep in her bed in the very same position I left her in yesterday after giving her a sleeping pill. She was hysterical over my face, and I had no choice but to go the pharmaceutical route.

Gavin is nowhere to be found but Julie is downstairs. She fails to react at first when I saunter into the kitchen to grab some coffee.

“It’s fine,” I tell her, trying to sound as normal as someone with a substantial headache can. “It was an accident.”

“You should probably see a doctor,” she eventually manages to squeal out, her face gone ashen.

“Look, I’m serious. It’s nothing. Don’t make a big deal out of it.”

She nods unconvincingly.

“Is my father around?”

“He left early.” She gulps. “Meetings.”

“Of course.” I pour myself a cup of coffee and retreat to my room to finish packing. Most of my things are already boxed up and ready to be moved to a new place as soon as the leasing office gives the green light.

I spend the next ten minutes sorting through the clothes in the very back of the closet but either from the coffee or the effects of the massive blow to my skull that I received last night, I can’t make my mind stop racing.

Eventually, the anxiety wins.

I find my phone and dial my aunt’s number.

“Dylan? What a surprise.” She seems a little puzzled and there’s an undeniable trace of worry hidden somewhere in her voice.

“I’m not interrupting or anything?” I ask, bypassing all formalities. Once, a long time ago, we were very close, and that closeness didn’t require us to dance around each other. Sure, it’s been years. Sure, Gavin drove the only real family member I have left away. Sure, we don’t talk much anymore, but somehow the familiarity remains.

“No, sweetie, of course not,” Amelia hurries to respond. “Is everything okay?”

“Funny, you’re the third person to ask me that today.” Well, technically Julie didn’t ask out loud, but her eyes communicated enough.

“Should I be concerned?”

“Not about me,” I mumble into the phone. “Mom needs help.”

A long deadly silence greets me next.

“I don’t know what happened between you and my father, but I have no one else to ask,” I add.

* * *

---