Page 4 of Stone Crest: Rise of a Raven
“Three months ago,” I answer.
She stares at me for only a second before she shakes her head. “I’m really sorry for your loss, Raven. Why here?”
“My aunt Gemma lives here. Pulled some strings. You know…the change of scenery, get my shit together intervention.”
“Gemma Cunningham, right?” Presley asks.
“The one and only.” I stick a fork full of noodles into my mouth.
“Well…. if you ever need to talk or anything, I’m always here," she offers with a sad smile.
“Thanks.” I give one back, that unsettling feeling washing over me again.
I’ve beensadthat she’s gone, but it’s like I’m numb. I haven’t felt that gut wrenching grief, and it makes me think something is wrong with me. Am I still in shock? Denial? All I feel
is anger. Purerage.
We both grow silent as we finish inhaling our meal. A public restaurant isn’t the place to do a deep dive into our recent childhood trauma, which is clear she has some as well from her earlier statement.
When our waitress takes our empty bowls, she tosses down two fortune cookies.
“I basically come here for these alone," Presley says as she unwraps the cookie.
“Doesn’t everyone?” I quip.
I unwrap mine slowly, then pull out the tiny white piece of paper. I never really put any faith in these “fortunes.” I’ve learned to be prepared for anything.
My fingers roll out the paper and I read the black ink.
The one you love is closer than you think.
Highly doubt it. If that holds any truth, then Jax Teller should be waltzing through that door momentarily.
“I need to pee.” I crumble up the paper and toss it to the side.
“Hey! You have to keep this!” She chides.
“Be my guest.” I wave a hand and scoot from the booth. “Be right back.”
I shuffle through the hall, past a woman with a screaming toddler attached to her hip, then past the chaos of the kitchen. Before I make it to the door, my phone rings.
Gemma.
Chapter three
Raven
Iexit out the side door, bringing my phone to my ear.
“Hello.” I clear my throat.
“Thank God. I was about to involve the authorities," she hisses, before I hear her chuckle.
“Hey Gemma, sorry about the missed calls," I lie, leaning back to rest against the exterior wall.
We had met up once since I arrived, and she showed me around town. A bunch of little shops and restaurants and pointed out who was who.The important peopleas she put it.
“How’s the living arrangements?” She asks.
