Page 29 of Sinful Skulls
I’m still good.
My feet carry me around the room without any real destination. I’m pacing. I stop and look at her online gallery again. Danielle is her name. She’s married with two kids … I stare at an old family photo of them. She’s beautiful. I try to find myself in her, but I don’t see any similarities.
Hours pass as I sit on the bathroom counter, gazing at my reflection.
I try to sleep a few more times before finally giving in and calling her. She may be the only chance I have to rest.
When I call her studio, her husband answers. I can tell right away he isn’t going to let me speak to her. I mean, I understand why. I’m not making much sense at the moment, but I manage to get out that I know her science teacher was my father, andI believe her to be my mother. I tell him why I’ve come to that conclusion. Well, not exactlywhy,but I did tell him I painted in a similar style to hers.
He was quiet while he listened, and when I finished, he said he would return my call within twenty-four hours.
I’m hanging my head over the edge of the bed in an attempt to ease the ache at the base of my skull when my phone rings.
“Hello. It’s her, isn’t it?” I ask before even checking to see who it is.
Henry chuckles darkly on the other end of the line. “You’re looking for her,” he deduces quietly to himself. Or me, I’m not sure which.
I don’t say anything, but for some reason I remain on the line.
“I’m not angry with you, Daisy. I understand everything is a little overwhelming right now.” When I remain quiet, he continues, “Please come back to Paris.”
“No,” I whisper, glancing over my shoulder, fully expecting him to be behind me.
I jump at the sound of his voice over the receiver.
“I should have waited to tell you, but I was excited when you arrived,” he coaxes.
My stomach turns, questioning his excitement. Was it simply because I am family and we share a dark creative side, or was it more sinister than that?
He undressed me.
I bite my knuckles to keep from screaming.
“Okay. Okay,” he says, finally accepting my refusal. “If you change your mind …”
I cut him off. “I won’t.” My thumb presses the end call button.
The phone rings again. I answer it abruptly, pulling it to my face. “I’m never coming back!” I yell.
“Daisy? Daisy, are you okay?” It’s Anthony. The man married to my birth mother.
“I’m … I’m fine. I’m sorry. I thought you were someone else.”
He’s quiet for a moment. “Daisy, my wife and I would like to meet with you. Would you be interested in that?”
“Yes, oh god, yes!” I say, jumping from the bed. If she wants to meet me, she must be my mother.
“Daisy, I don’t want to get your hopes up. My wife is not your mother,” he admits bluntly.
I drop to the floor.No!
“We might be able to help you find her, though.”
When I remain quiet, he continues.
“Danielle is out of town for a few days, but she would like to meet you as soon as she returns.”
“Um, I’m in Reno. I don’t know how long I’ll be here.”
