Page 48 of The Broken Note

And then Dutch’s.

Nothing.

“Cadence, stop.” Dutch wraps strong fingers around my upper arm. He holds me in place. “Explain. Why is this such a big deal?”

My chest feels hollowed out.

I stare into the wall, terror overtaking me.

I’m thinking about this morning. The stench in the bathroom. Mom’s smiling face.

She wasn’t scratching anymore.

“Oh my go—that’s how she got the money to buy weed.” I gasp.

“What?”

“She stole it.” My throat tightens until I can’t even swallow. “She stole the ring last night.”

“Who stole the ring?”

“I need to go.” I wrench away from him, hurrying to the door.

Dutch’s ring didn’t look cheap, but it’s not like that matters. Mom wouldn’t be worrying about getting a fair price. She would have sold it for any amount of cash she could get her hands on.

Oh no. Oh no. Oh no.

How much did that ring cost? What if I have to pay that back? I can’t afford another bill right now. I can’t even afford groceries until my next pay day.

Dutch easily catches up to me. He grabs my hand, bringing me to an abrupt stop.

“Let me go!” I snap at him, unleashing my panic, my anger at my mother, and my helplessness all at once.

“Dammit, Cadey.” There’s a harsh bite in his words, but I’m sensing that it’s from impatience more than anger. “I’m not letting you go. I amneverletting you go. I warned you when you kissed me and I meant it. Whatever’s going on, you either tell me or don’t. I don’t care. But I’m in this.”

Tears flush my eyes. I’m not sure if they’re angry tears or relieved tears.

I just know that it’s starting again—the cycle of me cleaning up mom’s messes and taking responsibility for all the ways she screws up.

For a few blissful months, I’d forgotten what this weight felt like.

For a few blissful months, I was free.

But it’s over now.

“Where are you going?” Dutch asks soberly.

“Home.”

He gestures to me. “Fix yourself up first and then I’ll take you.”

Heart thundering, I stuff my blouse back into the hem of my skirt and Dutch pulls his shirt back on. After we’re dressed, he leads me down the hallway.

I climb into his car, barely noticing the trees and buildings blurring outside my window. My fingers are tapping my pants. My heart is pounding in my throat.

Mom isn’t answering her cell phone.

Not a surprise. She stopped answering that right after she ‘died’. I’m guessing one of the first things she pawned while laying low was the phone.

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