She yawned again, this time, bringing the back of her wrist up to cover her mouth. “Okay,” she whispered. “Don’t let me sleep too long. I’ve got things to do.”
“Yes, ma’am,” I said as I watched her walk down the hallway and disappear into one of the bedrooms.
Now alone, I glanced around. My stomach growled, and I instantly regretted not eating breakfast before I left Carson’s house. The last thing I wanted was to be a burden to the Parks. They were in for a long journey and needed to protect their energy for themselves.
But I also knew that if I didn’t eat like I’d promised, Mrs. Parks would worry about me even if I begged her not to. So I made my way down the stairs and back into the foyer to start my search for the kitchen.
I took a few wrong turns, but I finally found it. I walked inside and found the fridge was open. I frowned as I stepped up only to see Coralie pull back and shut the door.
I stood there, frozen. It had been a few years since I’d seen her. She looked the same, just older. Her blonde hair was longer now. It fell to the middle of her back. Her skin was tanned, but the familiar splash of freckles across her nose was just as pronounced as it had been during the summer before my senior year. She was holding a carton of almond milk, and her focus was on setting it down on the counter. From what I could tell, she hadn’t seen me yet.
“Hey, Coralie,” I said, not wanting to startle her. But from the way she jumped and moved to grab her heart, I didn’t succeed.
“What the—Asher?” She leaned forward as if trying to get a better look.
“In the flesh,” I said as I extended my hands out to the side.
“Oh my gosh!” She abandoned the almond milk and crossed the space between us to wrap her arms around me. “What are you doing here?”
“Getting some food,” I said as she pulled back.
She laughed. It was familiar. Back in high school, I’d been convinced that we were going to get married. Our families were partly to blame for that train of thought. After all, a union between the Wolfe and the Parks was high on their priority list. But I was grateful that they didn’t push the issue when it came to our breakup.
“I didn’t mean in the kitchen,” she said as she turned and opened a cupboard to grab a bowl. “I mean New York.” She set the bowl down next to the almond milk and paused. “Aren’t you in one of the Carolina’s now?”
I nodded. “North Carolina.”
“That’s right,” she said. Then a wave of sadness washed over her as if realization just dawned on her. “You’re here because of Daddy.”
The weight of Mr. Parks’ diagnosis settled in the room. “Yeah,” I said, my voice low with emotion.
She was standing next to the island, staring straight ahead. She blinked and glanced over at me. “It’s good that you’re here. Daddy will be thrilled.”
“I already saw him,” I said.
She studied me, silence falling between us. I wasn’t sure what she was thinking, but I also didn’t want to interrupt her reverie. “How did that go?” she finally asked.
I studied her, not wanting to say the obvious. Her dad was sick. A second opinion was only going to confirm what we all knew. I just hoped that there was higher chance of survival for him than there had been for my father.
“It was good,” I said, not wanting to say what I really thought out loud. It was better to step around the truth than face it. At least for now. “He fell asleep after about an hour.”
She nodded. “Yeah. He’s not lasting long lately.”
Her hands were resting on the countertop like she needed the support. She grew silent, and I let her take her time. When she glanced up at me, the sadness in her eyes was unmistakable. It felt like holding a mirror up to my past. I knew that look. I knew that realization. It was a feeling so indescribable and soul crushing.
“Want some cereal?” she whispered.
Her question startled me. I hadn’t been expecting that. Before I could answer, she narrowed her eyes and straightened before heading to the far door with the signPantryabove it. “Cereal. Want some cereal?” she asked again before she disappeared into the small room.
I knew that move. Mrs. Parks had portrayed it perfectly. It was theI’m struggling with my thoughts, so I’m going to focus on something other than myselfmove. I’d seen it with my mom as well. I nodded and moved to follow after her. “Sure. That sounds fantastic.”
5
ELLA
Twenty-Five Days Later
Twenty-five days.
