Page 124 of The Darkest Note

If it wasn’t for the angry tears in his eyes and the way his voice broke when he demanded, ‘is she really dead’, I wouldn’t have believed he was my brother.

Today, Rick’s wearing a nice T-shirt and jeans without any rips or holes in them. His shoes are shiny black and his hair is nicely combed.

Rick frowns at me. “Why are you wearing a wig?”

“Not here.” I grab his arm and drag him away from the tent.

He stops me. “I can’t go anywhere. I have to work.”

“Where’s your post?” I whisper.

“That way.” He juts his chin at the edge of the park.

I follow him there, keeping my head down and walking swiftly. When we get to the cluster of trees, he stops me. “I can’t go any further than here or my manager might rip into me.”

A thousand thoughts are ripping through my head. How did he know it was me? Where has he been? How has he been? Why didn’t he help us when we needed him?

I force my tone to steady, refusing to look like an unhinged child in front of him. Despite my wig, green eyes and weird get-up.

He catches my eyes and his own well with a strange emotion. “You look just like her.”

“Who?”

“Mom.”

Immediately, guilt and anger set in. It’s a weird mixture that concocts in my heart and sends a burning sensation straight to my lungs. To be associated, in any way, with my mother is like a punch to the gut.

“She came to visit me one time.” He kicks at a rock. “Dressed like that. With the red hair. Didn’t know it was her at the time. She never introduced herself to me.”

I cross my arms over my chest and force air into my lungs. “Guess that answers how you recognized me.”

“Aren’t you too young to be playing in wine bars?”

Gorge’s never asked about my age or my real name, which is one of the reasons I loved working there.

“Aren’t you too busy with your own life to care about what I’m doing with mine?” I shoot back.

His eyebrows wrinkle and a flash of guilt passes through his brown eyes. He hides it quickly by ducking and laughing.

“You’ve got a temper just like her too.”

“Stop comparing me to mom,” I snap. “You barely knew her.”

“Oh, I wish I’dneverknown her. Trust me. If she’d stayed out of my life the way she always had, things would have been simpler.” His deep scowl makes me wonder if he knows more than he’s letting on.

Annoyance needles my skin. “Don’t worry. We’re not going to crash into your life and disrupt it like mom did. Are we done here?”

It’s hard to look at him right now. He’s complaining about knowing mom for a few months while I’ve been dealing with her crap foryears.Knowing that, he still hasn’t shown any bit of care. He turned his back and left me to deal with the fallout.

It’s fine. I’ve never seen him like a brother anyway. But sometimes, having hope and getting disappointed instead is worse than never having it at all.

“No, Cadence. We’re not done here,” he says with a huff.

Emotions are starting to burn the back of my eyes. “What do you want from me?” I scream.

Yelling is the only way I’m going to keep the tears from spilling. I’m exhausted. Physically and mentally stretched to my limits.

“Look, I know you hate me right now. And to be honest, I don’t particularly like you or what you represent. You look so freaking much like her and it messes with my head.”