Page 36 of Seeking Shadows

MIA

I chose a picnicprecisely because it allows me to escape—somewhere far from everything and everyone. Somewhere beyond my brother’s line of sight.

Liv:Are you okay, honeypie?

Me:Better than ever. You?

Liv:I’d be better if I hadn’t married the male version of Regina George from Mean Girls.

I laugh, but before I can respond, my phone is snatched from my hand.

“Hey!” I protest, but Zane just rolls his eyes.

“You’re the one who insisted on driving,” he says flatly. “Now pay attention. I don’t want to die.”

“We won’t, because I’m an amazing driver,” I say, as if that settles it.

“Says the girl texting while driving.”

“You’ve been so grumpy lately,” I grumble. “I read somewhere that sleeping with someone else helps.”

“You’re suggesting I find a girl to fuck?”

"Only if you want me to kill you both—but not before I feed her your balls."

He snorts. “So, when you were coming up with your grand plan—Let’s ditch Zane, blah blah blah, I can’t be with him—it never crossed your mind that I might find someone else?”

“I planned to kill everyone but the dog,” I retort. “I’d leave your dog alone.”

Zane chuckles, shaking his head. “What a healthy approach.”

“Sorry, they didn’t teach emotional intelligence in the basement where I was raised.”

His amusement fades. “Mia.”

“What?”

“Are you always going to joke about what you went through?”

“What else is there to do? Curl up in a corner and cry? Been there, didn’t love it.”

He exhales, running a hand through his hair. “You’re a weird girl.”

“And you’re repetitive, Mr. Parrot.”

I stop the car in the middle of a park—not too far from our cabin, but far enough that no one will recognize us.

Zane eyes the picnic basket with suspicion, rummaging through its contents like he’s searching for a hidden trap.

“You didn’t pack waffles. That’s a miracle.”

I cross my arms, deeply offended. “First of all, Mr. Grumpy, waffles don’t go with a picnic. Second, Ididvary the menu. We have sandwiches, fruit, cheese, and—”

Zane holds up a jar, frowning. “Is this… Nutella?”

“The best accompaniment to any meal,” I declare, snatching the jar from his hands and holding it up like a trophy. “I was considering just bringing this and a spoon, but I figured you’d complain.”

He sighs, dropping onto the checkered blanket. “Ialwayscomplain.”

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