Page 6 of Inside Silence

On the other side of the street, where my childhood house used to be, is now a newer development of semi-detached homes, housing mostly younger families, which only added to the appeal.

Plus, whoever owned it in the interim had done some decent renovations to the place, giving it a more contemporary look but without taking away the warm, welcoming feel I remember from my younger years. It seemed like a good place—maybe a healing place—to bring my daughter to, and I’m holding out hope for that to be true.

“I did,” I finally answer Savvy, returning my attention to her. “What brings you out here?”

I can hear the edge in my question. She hears it too and finally lifts her head so I can see her face.

A deep red mark, already turning blue in places, covers the right side of her face. Without warning, a hot rage bubbles to the surface.

“Who?” I bark, my hand involuntarily reaching for her face.

She winces and takes a step back, only adding to my anger.

“Who the fuck did that to you?”

“Calm down,” she snaps, placing her hands on her belt. “I got caught up in a domestic call. Bumps and bruises come with the job.”

“On your fucking face?” It flies from my mouth before I can check it.

Those big brown eyes narrow to glimmering slits and her lips press together tightly.

“Not your concern,” she articulates sharply.

I feel myself jerk back, as if she’d slapped my face. Put in my place, I take a deep breath and force all emotion from my face.

“Fine. What brings you out here, Sheriff Colter?” I repeat my earlier question.

I can tell she doesn’t buy into my attempt at a friendly tone, but she doesn’t call me on it.

“I don’t know if your daughter has had a chance to tell you what happened at school.”

“School?”

I instinctively dart a glance at the stairs over my shoulder, only to catch a flash of what I assume is Tate ducking out of sight. When I turn back to Savvy, a faint smile is playing on her lips.

“I remember what it was like to be a teenage girl and reluctant to share anything of a sensitive nature with my parents,” she offers, confirming her accurate read on the situation before she explains. “Carson, the boy from earlier, caught a couple of girls being cruel to your daughter at school.”

Instantly, my anger flares up again.

“What do you mean, cruel?”

She gives me a sympathetic look before she answers.

“It was about her mother. Carson mentioned she bolted out of the school and he took off after her to make sure she was okay. She wasn’t, which is why he took her to Strange Brew.”

“Her mother died a few months ago,” I share. Then I decide to add, “Of a drug overdose.”

“I’m so sorry for your loss. And I’m sorry to have to bring it up, but I wanted to make sure you knew what happened. In case you want to report the incident to the school.”

“No!”

This time Tatum doesn’t try to hide herself when I turn around. Her face is blotchy, probably from crying, and I feel instantly guilty. I should’ve made sure she was okay instead of assuming she was moping.

“It’ll only get worse if you do,” she cries, before turning on her heel and running upstairs.

Her bedroom door slams and Taylor Swift’s “Cruel Summer” suddenly blasts through the house. All designed to keep me out, but this time I’m not going to let it deter me.

I already have my foot on the first step when I hear Savvy behind me.