Page 33 of Room to Breathe

“Cody is fine,” I said, finally answering his question.

He flinched as if I really had hurt him. Had I?

He looked down, then turned a page of the book.

I gritted my teeth, the familiar anger that had been a part of me for months burning my insides. Sometimes, like now, with anger clouding every thought, I wondered if I remembered wrong how it had all happened. Why else would everyone have taken his side?

Chapter 14

Then

A loud banging pulled meout of sleep. There was yelling as well. I sat up, scared. It sounded like someone, or a lot of someones, were trying to break down the front door. The walls around my bed were rattling. I cowered against the headboard, frozen.

More banging.

Then my parents’ door across the hall opened and someone was running down the stairs. My dad? I wanted to tell him not to go down there. To call 911. But my voice wouldn’t work either; it was stuck in my throat, trapped by fear.

Was this an angry client?

My door opened and my mom appeared. The look on her face didn’t help me relax. “You need to get up,” she said.

“Why? What’s going on?” I croaked.

“Get a robe.”

“A robe? I don’t own a robe.”

She had one wrapped around her. “Oh, right. A blanket, then.”

“I can’t get dressed?” I was wearing shorts and a tank top.

She didn’t answer, just pulled the blanket off my bed and wrapped it around my shoulders.

“What’s happening?” I asked.

Before she could answer, the yelling was inside the house.

Mom led me to the stairs, and as we reached the top, about to go down, three people in black uniforms were climbing up them. I tried to back away, but my mom held my arm. They were screaming things I couldn’t understand.

“We need to go outside,” Mom said in a surprisingly calm voice.

“Why?” I asked, but followed her anyway, down the steps and onto the front porch. We had a bench and two chairs out there and Mom led me to one.

Dad was already there, watching more people walk into the house. Some of them were armed. Some had clipboards. Large white letters, which I hadn’t noticed before but did now, were on the backs of their jackets: FBI. Dad mumbled something about a search warrant to Mom.

I stood there, blinking, waiting for someone to tell me what was going on, because this was definitelysomething.

Finally, Mom said, “There’s been some suspicious activity at the firm. And they’re just trying to figure out who is involved.”

“Suspicious activity? Criminal activity?” I asked.

Dad gave a tight nod.

“It’s just an investigation,” Mom tried to assure me. “Your father hasn’t done anything wrong.”

If that was true, then why hadn’t they been open with me about this for the past several weeks? Warned me this might happen.

It was cold outside. The sun was just barely rising. I wasn’texactly sure what time it was—I’d left my phone sitting on the nightstand in the chaos—but it was early. I wondered if our neighbors were watching. I wondered why these people had come to our house this early. I wondered why they didn’t call first. My dad would’ve let them in. But as soon as I wondered, I realized they’d done this on purpose so Dad wouldn’t have time to prepare. To get rid of things? I’d only ever seen this in the movies. I didn’t realize this happened in real life.