Page 134 of Cuffed (Everyday Heroes 1)
“And then after they leave, they are going to go on a big adventure,” she says in that funny voice she uses when she tells us the dentist is going to be fun. Like I’m supposed to believe her when she’s not telling the truth.
“Where?” I ask, my hopes getting up that she’ll send me postcards.
“I don’t know,” she murmurs and then sniffles as if she is crying, but when I look up to her, she shifts suddenly so I can’t see her face. “Are these the rocks you were painting?” The dentist voice is back again.
“Yeah. I painted them for Emmy.”
“That was nice of you.”
“She likes rocks. Even ugly zombie ones. She’s been really sad, so I’ve been painting them and putting them in her planter. She said they make her smile.” I push the rocks around some more. “She’s not going to have any more of my rocks, Mom. How is she going to smile now?”
“Oh, Grant.” My mom hiccups real loud, and it sounds like she’s crying again. Before I can look, she grabs me into a hug and holds so tight I can’t breathe.
But I cry, too.
I miss my best friend.
Her and her yucky purple backpack and her Barbies and other girly things I hate but would play with her a hundred times if she would just come back home.
Bye, Emmy.
I’m sorry I told your secret, and it made you go away.
If I had kept my pinky promise, you’d still be here.
I’m sorry. Will you forgive me?
The knock on the door to my office startles me. The person standing there does even more so.
I look like hell.
That’s the first thought that glances through my mind when I look up to see Grant’s mom in my doorway. My second is it’s her son who made me feel this way.
“Betsy.”
Is it bad that just the sight of her—my second mom—makes me want to hug her and just sob? I fight the tears burning my eyes because I will not fall apart. Not here in the office. Not at home. Not anymore.
“Em? You okay, honey?” She steps into my office.
“Yeah. Just . . . it’ll be okay.”
For a moment, she studies me as if she’s trying to figure out whether to believe me. “I’m sorry for stopping by unannounced, but I called earlier, and it went to voice mail. I hope you don’t mind.”
“No, of course not. Come in and have a seat,” I say as I stand from my desk and shut the door to my office behind her. The last thing I need is for the staff to hear any part of this conversation. I’m certain they’re already wondering what’s wrong with me since I’ve been snapping at everyone. I wait for her to get settled and sit in the office chair next to her.
“It’s a wonderful little space,” she says with a sincerity I know she means. “I can’t wait to see how you improve it when it’s yours. I won’t stay long. I just . . .”
“What is it?”
“Grant will kill me for meddling, but I couldn’t stand by and not say anything.” I hold back my sigh when I realize why Betsy has come to see me. “He told me you’ve been remembering things you hadn’t before.”
I thought her opening statement was going to be about the file folder or some grand pitch about how I need to give Grant another chance—the same spiel I’m getting from Desi. So I’m a little taken aback by her statement. With anyone else, my guard would be up, but I find myself needing someone to talk to.
“Yes, they have. Ever since I saw Grant on the Fourth.”
“And you assume it’s because of him?”
I nod, curious but uncertain about where this conversation is going. “It isn’t a coincidence.”
