Page 57 of The Broken Note

“Your fifteen minutes must be up,” Breeze muses.

“I’ve got to get back to work, guys.” I check my phone and confirm that I’m running five minutes over the fifteen Frankie gave me. He showed a little grace this time. Probably because he saw Serena crying.

“I have to head out too,” Serena says. “I need to check on mom.”

“I’ll take you to the hospital. My mom let me use her truck today.” Breeze swings her key around her middle finger and wiggles her eyebrows.

I wave goodbye to the girls and finish my shift at the diner.

On the bus back home, I check my phone.

I have several messages.

Serena: I don’t know what I did to deserve a friend like you. Thank you so much, Cadence. Even if it doesn’t work out, I’ll never forget what you’ve done for me.

Dutch: You start any fights yet, Brahms?

In spite of myself, I chuckle. Who does he think he is?

There’s one more text.

It’s from Vi.

Viola: Do you know where mom is?

My shoulders stiffen and I swipe through my phone.

Nothing.

Mom hasn’t contacted me and, since I don’t know if she even has a phone—much less a phonenumber—I can’t contact her either.

Frustration boils in my gut.

I send Vi a text.

I’ll be home soon. We can talk then.

Fifteen minutes later, I open the door to my apartment and Viola springs on me.

“You don’t think that killer guy got her, do you?” My little sister chews on her bottom lip. She’s wearing make-up again today. It looks tasteful rather than overdone. She’s really starting to find what works for her.

“No, I don’t.” Exhaustion drags me down, but I shake it off. “Have you eaten?”

Long lashes batting over her big brown eyes, Viola follows me to the kitchen. “How do you know? What if mom’s in a ditch somewhere? What if they cut her body to pieces, stuffed it in a garbage bag and threw her in a river?”

I’m stone-cold inside. A part of me thinks mom disappearing for real would make our lives easier. I’ve gotten a taste of what life would be like if she wasn’t in it. It was hard, but it wasn’t horrible.

Vi and I survived.

We will keep on surviving—with or without mom.

Vi smacks my arm. “Cadey, are you even listening to me?”

“Yes, I am,” I say wearily, pulling out the bread. At least mom didn’t finish this loaf during her ridiculous attempt at breakfast. There’s just enough for Vi to have a full sandwich. I can eat the last slice of bread along with a couple pieces of sausage.

“Do you even care?” She accuses.

“Of course I care.” Or at least, I want to. But my heart is calloused. I have to be numb. If not, I’ll break down and cry every time life punches me in the face. Which it does. Often. If I let myself feel all the time, it’ll truly be over. I won’t have the strength to go another day.

---