Page 33

It's Monster Truck Day, and Jaime has been talking about it nonstop since lunch. I was apprehensive about the whole thing at first—the involvement of wrecked cars in any event, considering what's happened to him, seems like a bad idea. Though with his excitement and everyone else's support of it, maybe I'm the only one who's made that connection. And perhaps that's for the best.
It's just after lunch, and Jaime is playing in his room, giving me some much-needed peace before the chaos of monster trucks this afternoon. I stand at the sink, finishing the last of the dishes, then dry my hands and settle back into my chair with my book. The quiet is soothing, and I try to let the story take me away, but my mind keeps wandering back to that black SUV I thought was following us after dinner with Shane.
Suddenly, my phone buzzes, jolting me out of my thoughts. I glance at it, my heart sinking as I see a text from an unknown number.
The message reads:
You still haven't learned, apparently. Perhaps you won't until you get burned. Lay low.
Panic floods through me. How can they tell? Who is this? A million questions surge through my mind at once. I think back to the SUV after dinner—were we really being followed? Is this connected? My heart pounds in my chest, the walls seem to close in around me, and I feel that all-too-familiar anxiety creeping in. I need to make sure Jaime is safe.
I rush to check on him, and each step I take toward his room feels like I'm reliving a nightmare. It's like that time I walked out of my parents' room to check on Gio. The fear, the uncertainty—it's all there.
When I open Jaime's door, I see him bent over his desk, drawing. He turns around, sensing my presence, his eyes curious. "What is it?" he asks, noticing the blank expression on my face.
"Nothing," I manage to say, forcing a smile. "You okay, bud?" I ask, trying to sound casual.
He nods, a little confused. "Is it time to get ready for monster trucks yet?" he asks, his excitement clear.
I hesitate, my mind still swirling with fear. "No, buddy. Actually, I'm not feeling so well..." The words catch in my throat, because I know what they'll mean to him. "I'm thinking I might have to cancel the monster trucks."
"What?" he shouts, his face falling. "No, Nicole, please! Can't you just take some medicine?"
"No, buddy, I think it's pretty serious. Maybe we can reschedule…" I offer weakly, knowing how much this will disappoint him.
"We can't, Nicole. Can't you just call—"
"Tell you what," I say, trying to calm him, "just relax. Wait here, and I'll see what I can do."
He huffs, his frustration clear. "Okay," he snaps, his voice sharper than I've ever heard. I close the door gently, leaving him alone. My phone is still in my hand; I think about calling Annette to cancel, but something stops me. I remember Gio crying when we couldn't go to the city fair. I remember him asking to see his old friends after we went into hiding, and all those weekends spent locked in the house, too afraid to step outside. They're doing it to me again, and worse, they don't even have to show their faces. All they need is a phone to throw my life—and everyone else's—into a closet.
I take a deep breath, put the phone away, and head back to Jaime's room. I open the door, and he looks up at me with concern.
"Are you feeling better?" he asks cautiously.
"Yeah, bud. Much better. Put on the clothes I set out for you, and let's get ready for the monster trucks," I say, trying to mimic the funny voice Shane uses, but it comes out awkward.
Jaime's face lights up instantly. He jumps up, his earlier frustration forgotten. His joy makes everything worth it.
When we get home from the show, Jaime is so exhausted that he falls asleep almost immediately. I retreat to my room, craving the comfort of a quiet evening and a good book. Around 9:30, just as I'm finally getting lost in the pages, there's a knock at my door.
"Come in," I say, already knowing it's Shane.
He steps in, dressed in his dark blue suit and the tie I love the most on him. He looks tired, but concerned. "Are you feeling better?" Shane asks.
I'm a bit taken aback. "What do you mean?"
"Jaime was awake when I went to see him. He told me you were feeling sick and canceled going to the show, but that you left and came back feeling better right away. So I was wondering if you were okay."
"Yeah, I'm fine," I say, trying to hide my discomfort, but I can feel the weight of his gaze. I'm so tired of lying to everyone. Still, I think he senses something is off.
"You're sure? You don't need anything?" he asks.
"No, I'm fine, really," I reply, my voice a bit sharper than I intended. I set my book down and walk over to him, pulling him into a kiss to change the subject. "How was your day?" I ask, hoping to steer the conversation away.
"It was fine," he says. "We had to make some changes in the departments with Oliver moving up, but things ran pretty smoothly."
"Great," I say, trying to sound upbeat. "Are—"