Page 23 of Fall for Me

She was scared.

My stomach dropped. The mom, in the passenger seat, said something to her daughter without looking at her, and I could tell that it was because the daughter said nothing—she was frozen—that the Mom looked my way.

She said something—snapped maybe—at her daughter.

Don’t stare. It’s rude.

My throat tightened.

I looked down, my throat burning.

“Anyway,” Mia said as the light turned green, “It’s good timing, except this dog needs so much attention I barely have any time for myself.” Mia went on about what I’d missed with all our friends, who weren’t really my friends. I’d seen a few brief mentions of me on social media, followed by the latest gossip reposts. But no one had texted or called, except Mia.

A heaviness sunk over me, pulling me like a weight underwater. The only thing keeping me from drowning was Lola, her warm body now curled against my chest as if she knew I needed the comfort. Don’t cry. Not now.

It was only when I realized we’d already crossed the bridge from town and were heading up toward the Rolling Hills that I remembered I hadn’t wanted to go home yet.

But it was too late now. Mia had pulled over and was looking at me expectantly.

I gave Lola one last stroke, wishing I could keep her with me. Instead, I kissed her on the top of her head and lay her on the seat.

“I’ll call you, okay?” I told Mia as I got out of the car.

“Want me to help you upstairs?”

I shook my head. “I’ll be fine. Thank you again.”

After she drove away, I stood for a moment in front of the door, my keys in hand.

That little girl’s face flashed before me, then my nephew’s. Eli crying in the mirror, and my dad, sobbing by my bedside when he thought I was asleep.

Then I saw one face, unbothered by mine. One person who talked to me like I was just… me, and not some broken, ruined version of me.

As if driven by something other than my own conscience, I turned and went to my car, parked in the corner of the little lot.

I’d just gotten the car turned on when there was a knock on the window.

I shrieked, my heart jumping.

Griffin, my other brother, holding a trash bag in his giant hand. I remembered he’d been here cleaning out my place.

He looked like a mountain man with his big barrel body, reddish hair, and ruddy, under-shaven face. Griffin was the surly one. The one who acted like he didn’t care much for people’s feelings. Not in a bad way, but in a never-beat-around-the-bush kind of way.

He didn’t look sorry he’d startled me.

I rolled down the window.

“What do you want me to tell them?” he asked.

Relief ran over me. Of all my siblings, Griff knew what it meant to want to be alone. While Eli, and Cass, and I lived in the staff apartments here, and Jude in a rented mansion in the hills, Griff lived in an austere cabin in the woods. He was a part-owner in the hotel and came to the most important meetings if he was in town, but didn’t work there. He disappeared for long periods of time, and none of us knew where he went until he called us on crackling phone lines from the other side of the world.

I considered. Then I landed on the truth. “Tell them I just needed a bit of time alone.”

He stood there a moment longer. He wasn’t hesitating, I knew. He was assessing. Finally, he said, “Don’t do anything stupid, Chelsea.”

I didn’t say yes or no to that, mostly because I didn’t know whether what I was planning to do was smart or stupid. What I did know was Griff could easily stop me if he wanted to. But he didn’t. And I loved him for it. “Thanks, Griff.”

He grunted, and I backed out of the lot, going to the only place I could think of where I might be able to breathe.

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