Page 67 of The Candle Palace (Jamison Valley 6)
“Sara!” Mom screamed. “You need to get over here.”
“What?” I shot up in bed, my heart lurching. “What’s wrong? What happened?”
“It’s Denny.”
My mind immediately went to the worst. Had he overdosed? “What happened?” I repeated.
“He—oh my God—I can’t believe this.”
“What’s wrong?” Milo sat up next to me, his hand on my shoulder as he leaned in close waiting for Mom’s answer.
But she was silent.
“Mom?”
“You need to get over here,” she insisted, then hung up.
I whipped the covers off my legs, darting for my closet. I pulled on some clean panties and a pair of black yoga pants. Then I tugged on a bra and a gray Nike hoodie.
I was hopping into a pair of tennis shoes when I looked over my shoulder to see Milo fully dressed and ready to go. I guess cops were practiced at getting dressed in the middle of the night after a frantic phone call.
We left my condo without a word, going right for the garage. I didn’t argue when he took the keys from my hand and went to the driver’s side door. I was too jittery to drive.
Instead, I sat with bouncing knees in the passenger seat as I gave Milo directions to Mom’s house. The black roads were deserted. As we turned
down the quiet street of my youth, only porch lights illuminated the sidewalks where I’d learned to ride my bike. The sidewalks Denny and I had colored with chalk.
What if he was dead? What would I do? The last words my brother had spoken to me were fuck you. I’d tried to call him but he hadn’t answered. All I could imagine as we slowly approached the flashing lights of police cars and two fire trucks was I’d get there and be told Denny had overdosed.
“I should have pushed harder,” I whispered. “I should have called him more. I should have found him a rehab spot.”
Milo reached across the console and took one of my hands. “We’ll get through this.”
Whatever this was.
As we got closer, the light was brighter. The police cars were all positioned with their headlights shining on the house.
What was Denny’s truck doing in the yard? His tailgate was aimed our direction. I couldn’t see the hood because—
“Oh my God,” I gasped.
“What the hell?” Milo let my hand go so he could lean over the steering wheel, getting a closer look. “Did he—”
“He drove his truck into my house.” My eyes were seeing but my brain was not believing.
“Holy fuck.”
Milo parked a few houses down in an open spot. Before he even had the car in park I was flying out the door.
I shivered, racing down the icy sidewalk while trying not to slip and fall. I lost my footing on one slick patch and flailed before a strong hand gripped my arm, holding me steady.
“Easy,” Milo warned, helping me along the way.
There were firefighters in full uniform standing around the back of the truck. In the yard, two police officers were talking to my mother.
Her hair was pulled into a ponytail. She was in a thin nightgown with a magenta silk robe tied tight underneath her breasts. She spotted us and her arms shot out for me. “Sara!”
“Mom.” I rushed to her, letting her pull me into a hug. “What happened?”
