Page 288 of Ashes of Sin and Stardust

Chapter 61

We made quick workof Alice’s belongings. Sophie was sad to see her go but understood the situation. I asked Cat and the Bakers to come over this weekend for dinner and drinks, and they readily agreed.

Back at my house, Alice was quiet and a little withdrawn. Her face was a blank mask of indifference as she sorted through her things, hanging her clothes and tucking her shoes into the closet. She spent a lot of time organizing and reorganizing her makeup, jewelry, and hair stuff on the desk I’d put in her room.

I asked her to come to my office when she was done. I had some emails to check and a phone call to make, and I wanted to give her a little bit of space. She’d been quiet and a little weird the past day because of the running away, the panic attack, and now the stress of Woodrow.

I had no idea how to handle it. Would she need a spanking, or some pain? Or did she need emotional support? A distraction? Tasks to give her something to do?

She was quiet and looked like she didn’t want to talk about it.

In my office, I called Becca and gave her the update on Woodrow. “Yes, Sam called me, and the cops came by today,” she said. “I didn’t expect him to do something so brash as to go after her. It’s a little aggressive, isn’t it? Doesn’t fit his nature. He’s controlling, but he’s a gaslighter, not a stalker.”

“I don’t know what to think, Bec. You’re right, it’s weird. Even when he saw her in public a few weeks ago, he didn’t try to put his hands on her or try to get her to come back with him. Instead, he lied to her and made her feel like she was crazy for leaving him. Something doesn’t add up.”

I looked up when I saw movement. Alice was leaning against the doorway, wearing a black latex mini skirt and a red lacy bra, and she had that look on her face that I thought of as her brat face... lips slightly pursed, head cocked, eyes peeking up at me suggestively from under her dark bangs. She stared at me for a minute while she twirled a piece of her hair, and then pushed herself off the doorframe and continued down the hall.

“Um... I need to go,” I said. “I think Alice is about to break something to get my attention.”

“Let me know what you hear.”

I ended the call and went off to find Alice. She was sitting on the floor with a shoebox beside her, looking through photographs. My mom had always collected photos and had, after the accident, attempted to get into scrapbooking. I didn’t have the heart to get rid of her collections after she died, and clearly, dad hadn’t either.

Alice picked out a photo of my mom standing beside me in the kitchen. She was wearing a frilly apron and smiling widely, her eyes all crinkled up at the edges, and I was glaring into the camera because I hated having my photo taken.

She flipped the photo over and looked at the date. “You were nine here?”

“Yep.”

“You’re taller than your mom. You look twelve.”

“I was a tall kid.”

“No shit.” She tucked the photo back into the box and picked out a few more. For Christmas that year I’d gotten a bike, and had managed a half-smile for the camera.

“Do you miss when your life was simpler,” she whispered, setting the shoe box aside and opening one of the scrapbooks.

---