Page 9 of Firefly
I grab my winnings and shove the envelope into my jacket pocket.
The feeling of being watched intensifies, so I glance around casually. Too many people.
Shadows and helmets, but somehow… I know it's him—the Ducati rider, except I just can’t find him.
Reaching inside my pocket, I take out my phone and check the time. 10:24 p.m.
My heart sinks. Shit. I’m going to be late for curfew.
My father thinks I spend my nights studying at the twenty-four hour library like the obedient little trophy daughter he’s manufactured.
If only he knew.
I walk my bike to the back, and Gio buzzes me inside without question.
Twenty minutes later, I’m climbing into the black Audi RSQ8 my father bought me, like expensive gifts somehow erase emotional abuse.
The drive home feels heavier than usual, because home isn’t home.
It’s a fucking museum.
A perfectly polished cage where I perform as a puppet.
At night… I become real.
During the day, I’m just a shell wearing makeup and designer clothes while saying ‘yes, sir’ and ‘no, ma'am’ like a programmed doll.
Nobody sees me.
Nobody except Hayden ever did.
And he’s dead.
I swallow hard against the ache in my throat just thinking about him.
The gated entrance to Hillcreek Bay appears ahead. Security lights glow softly against the massive estates hidden behind manicured trees.
I type in my code and the gates swing open. Larry smiles from the booth, lifting his coffee cup at me.
Sweet old Larry.
Every morning, he leaves a blueberry muffin and a chai latte waiting for me because he says I remind him of his granddaughter. I wave back before driving deeper into the neighborhood.
The Augustine Estate looms somewhere behind the trees. Even here, I can’t escape them.
Pulling into the driveway of our white farmhouse-style mansion, the garage door opens automatically, but I don’t go inside.
Instead, I kill the engine and climb out barefoot.
The second my feet touch the cold grass, I exhale. My backyard is the only place that feels sacred. Two acres of silence, moonlight, and freedom.
The soft grass brushes between my toes while the cold air kisses my skin. I shrug off my riding jacket and let it fall behind me. My laughter almost escapes before grief catches it by the throat. I spin beneath the stars until dizziness crashes over me.Then I fall into the grass, staring upward. The sky is crystal clear tonight. One star shines brighter than the others. My chest caves as I reach up as if I could touch it. “I miss you, Hayden,” I whisper as tears blur my vision, but I refuse to let them fall. Crying never brings him back.Nothing does.
Eventually, I drag myself upright and glance towards the house. Every light is off… except mine.
I freeze.
My bedroom light glows softly through the second floor window and it’s cracked open.
