Page 41 of Broken Secrets
Almost. Still waiting to hear from Emma about our video chat.
DEREK
I’m sure she’ll message soon. Try not to stress.
Easy for him to say. He’s never spent eighteen years wondering about a family member, only to make contact and then have them go silent.
“Who was that?” Mom asks, though her voice sounds more relieved than curious.
“Derek. About the trip tomorrow.”
I push back from the table, my appetite completely gone. “I’m going to finish packing and wait for Emma to get back to me.”
“Olivia,” Mom starts, but I’m already heading for the stairs.
“Let me know when she calls,” Robert says gently. “I’d like to hear how it goes.”
In my room, I settle at my desk with my laptop open, webcam positioned at what I hope is a flattering angle. My phone sits beside the keyboard, volume turned up so I won’t miss any notifications. I’ve changed my shirt twice, settling on a casual blue sweater that brings out my eyes.
Seven thirty a.m. comes and goes. Then eight a.m. At eight-fifteen, I send another message.
Me: Hey Emma, still good for tonight? I’m all set up for video chat whenever you’re ready.
The message shows as delivered but not read. I refresh Instagram, checking to see if she’s been active. Her last story was posted four hours ago; a photo of her lunch with the caption “School cafeteria pizza strikes again.” She’s clearly had her phone today.
By eight forty-five, I’m spiraling. I’ve reorganized my desk, checked my camera settings three times, and started a draft email to Jeremy I immediately deleted. What if Emma told him about our conversation and he forbade her from contacting me again? What if they decided as a family that reconnecting with me would be too complicated?
I grab my Catalina packing list from my nightstand, determined to focus on something concrete and controllable. Swimsuit, check. Sunscreen, check. Marine biology field notebook, check. The routine of going through my belongings is oddly soothing, each item a reminder that my life exists beyond family drama and unanswered messages.
My phone buzzes and my heart jumps, but it’s Maya.
Maya
How’s the video chat going??? Tell me everything!
I stare at the message, my chest tight with disappointment. How do I explain that there is no video chat, that Emma seems to have disappeared as suddenly as she appeared?
Me
Raincheck on the chat, she hasn’t responded to my messages today.
Maya
That’s weird. Maybe family dinner ran long? Or homework crisis?
Me
Maybe.
Maya
Don’t spiral about it. There could be a million innocent reasons.
But as the evening wears on and my phone remains silent, innocent reasons feel less likely. I lie in bed staring at the ceiling, running through every word of our Instagram conversation, trying to figure out what I might have said wrong. Was I too eager? Too pushy about meeting? Did I reveal something that made her uncomfortable?
The next morning arrives gray and foggy, matching my mood perfectly. I drag myself through my usual routine, checking my phone compulsively between brushing my teeth and getting dressed. Still nothing.
Downstairs, Mom has made pancakes, her go-to comfort food offering. She studies my face as I pour orange juice, clearly noting the dark circles under my eyes.
