Page 66 of The Design of Goodbye
I should be proud of myself. I’d had a successful night. I’d bought supplies, cut the fabric, created three dozen stars, and managed to sew the overskirt. It was more than I’d accomplished in my mom’s sewing room in four months, but I still felt like a failure.
I couldn’t breathe. Angrily, I swept my arm across the sewing table. Needles scattered everywhere, the stars I’d cut fell to the floor, and the mannequin crashed into the closet.
I had to get out of here. I needed some fresh, cold air to make me forget.
* * *
I almost changed my mind. The cold was more biting than I’d anticipated and the roads icier than I preferred. The few inches of snow that’d fallen Wednesday had started melting, so some areas were slushy, and others still snow packed and icy. Normally, the streetlamps were enough to guide my path, but this time, I kept my phone’s flashlight aimed at the ground ahead of me as an extra precaution. My dad wouldn’t appreciate me calling him at one in the morning with a broken ankle. Plus, then he’d find out about my walks, and thatcouldn’thappen.
I turned out of my neighborhood, planning to walk by the park, when I saw it. Illuminated by the streetlamps, a familiar bike was lying on its side across the street.
Was that really Liam’s bike?
I quickly crossed the street, searching for any signs of him. When I neared the bike, I recognized Liam’s backpack, and dread filled me.
“Liam?”
“Madison?” Liam’s voice. Movement sounded from my right, and I took a hesitant step toward it. “Stop!”
I froze. “Liam?”
“Don’t move.” Then he added, “Please.”
I aimed my flashlight in the direction of his voice. He was squatting next to a tree in a wooded area, squinting up at me.
“What are you doing in the woods?” I wondered aloud.
“I lost my glasses.”
“How’d you lose your glasses?”
“I had a little incident on my bike.”
“This looks like more than a little incident. You’re in the woods on the side of the road. Can you come over here, please?”
“I can’t,” he said. “I need to find my glasses.”
“Wouldn’t they be up here?”
He sighed. “I went over the handlebars, slid on the sidewalk, and ended up against this tree. My glasses could’ve gone anywhere. They aren’t up there, though. I already looked. At least, I don’t think they are. I can’t see very well.”
That all soundedreallyscary. “Are you hurt?”
“Not really,” he said. “I just need to find my glasses.”
“I have a flashlight.” I started to walk over to him. “I’ll come help you.”
“Be careful! It’s really—”
My foot slipped. I fell right on my butt.
“Slippery,” he finished.
“Why is there so much mud?” I groaned. “I never expected so much mud.”
“I did the same thing,” he said. “Twice.”
I wiped my muddy hand on my leggings. “This is disgusting.”
