Page 2 of The Broken Note

“Was it your first time?”

My eyes lift to hers.

Can’t she see? Can’t she tell that I’m uncomfortable? That I’m angry? That I’m bleeding inside?

Or does she see and not care?

I’ve always wondered.

Is she that oblivious or is she that evil?

Mom’s brown eyes light up with excitement. She used to look at me like that when payday rolled around and she had her dealer on standby.

“Oh, I can tell it was painful. Poor thing. It’s always horrible the first time. Especially if he doesn’t know how to please a woman. Next time will be better. Once you know what you like—”

“I told you not to come back here,” I hiss.

Mom’s spiel dies a violent death.

She goes still and a flash of something cruel passes through her eyes. In a blink, it’s gone and she’s back to her smiley self.

“Why wouldn’t I come here? This is my house.”

“Yourhouse?” I scoff. “Rick and I are the ones paying rent and keeping the lights on. What have you done, mom?”

“Cadey—”

I cut her off with a sharp gesture. “I let you stay the weekend because Viola wasn’t home. It’s Monday. School will be over soon. I don’t want her to see you.”

“Oh, loosen up, Cadey.” Mom tsks. “I let you yell at me all you wanted this weekend. Are you still not over it?”

“Over it?” My eyes bulge.

I shouldn’t let her needle me. I should brush her off and let it go. But she’s an expert at digging under the skin. She pushes at the cuts hidden deep inside. It’s instinctual to react. To bawl out. To clamor for justice when someone presses on an open wound.

“What exactly is it that I’m supposed to get over, mom?” I hiss. “The fact that you faked your own death? The fact that you roped me into your ridiculous ‘suicide’? Had me lie to the police and burn some poor woman’s corpse?”

“That corpse was a verified Jane Doe.” Mom sticks a pointer at me. “And why don’t you yell a little louder for the entire apartment building to hear?”

I take a threatening step toward her and she inches back.

“I don’t care why you had to die and I don’t give a damn about the reasons you’re alive again either, but for my sister’s sake you need to stay dead. At least until I can find a way to explain this to Viola.”

“Explain what?” A sweet voice pours behind me and sends a cold shiver down my spine.

No.

Viola can’t be here.

Not while mom is in the living room like a freaking ghost come to life.

Panicked thoughts bombard my head.

I reach desperately for a solution.

But it’s no use.

Mom makes her move first. When she breezes past me to reveal herself, I smell death. I smell disaster.