I thought things would be better in the morning. My mom always had this idea that a good night's sleep always put things into perspective, made everything seem less frightening, dull the hard edges of the day before. Unfortunately, for me, it sharpened everything. The instant my eyes parted and I was staring at my ceiling, I was restless. My sheets felt all wrong, worse than the hotel sheets had on my skin.

Everything that Milo had said played in my head over and over again.

I had been dead to him. I was still dead to everyone else that I considered family.

But Cassey, sweet Cassey, now had the same vacant stare that drove me into this mess in the first place. She – like my parents – was probably sitting in front of infomercials, her brain entirely gone. Did she know it was happening? Did she feel her mind slipping more and more each day? What were the doctors telling her parents?

And my parents. What the hell happened to my parents?

When I was perched in that tree, knowing damn well that there was a good chance I was going to die, I thought of them. I told myself that they would be okay and that Dawn and Armond would take care of them. I had envisioned Cassey taking them baking after her shift, bubbling on about nothing. I thought of Milo going into the home on my behalf – just like I would do for his relatives if he were gone – and checking to make sure everything was the way I would like.

And he had taken care of them, hadn't he?

Because he had gotten the call as my emergency contact. He had been the one who picked up the slack. Even though I had been promised that they would be taken care of. Even though, it was the least they could do for my sacrifice.

I threw the blankets off my legs. I barely registered the weather outside my window as I pulled on my clothing. My black jeans and knitted cream sweater would be enough to fend off the chilly spring rain – the last war that winter tried to wage against summer. My teeth were scrubbed so fast and so hard that my gums bled, then I yanked my hair up into a messy bun and was out the door, Subaru keys dangling from my hand.

Ryder hadn't even stirred on the couch where I had left him after a few lackluster rounds of a fighting game and one piece of cold pizza.

The Subara was on the street, waiting for me. The old bucket was just like I remembered. And was sluggish to respond to the pedal that I kept stomping on, trying to demand that the rpms kept up with my roaring ears. My dad would be appalled if he saw me driving like this.

I arrived at the home in no time. it was nothing less than a miracle that I hadn't gotten pulled over for a speeding ticket. And all of my thunder, all of my rage, ended up being directed at the last person who deserved it.

"We couldn't reach you and the money stopped coming in," the receptionist tried to explain gently, looking horrified. "Obviously we care about all of our residents and your parents are no different and the government does cover a portion of the expenses, but we couldn't take care of them for free."

"I understand that," I snapped. "But I never missed a payment before. I have always been on time, mostly early."

"I can see that on your receipts, but it was a week overdue and we couldn't get ahold of you. Our protocol is to call your emergency contact. Caring for ill parents can be very draining. We often see family members wanting to do the right thing, then not being able to handle it emotionally or financially."

It was a slap in the face. I could feel the walls within me rising against the tide. "I would never—"

"I know," she assured, resting her hand on the clenched fist that I had slammed down onto the desk at some point.

But I had, hadn't I?

I had gone out expecting to die. Returning had been a surprise to everyone, myself included. But I had trusted that they would be taken care of. I trusted that...

"I'm sorry," I said, feeling dangerously close to tears when I met her kind eyes. Seeing all the understanding there when I didn't deserve any of it made me want to crawl into a small hole and die. I knew better. I knew that this wasn't something was done to spite me, to make me feel like a bad daughter. "You didn't deserve that. None of this was your fault. You were just doing your job and I should have never disrespected you like that. When I heard that someone else had to take care of my parents, I panicked."

I panicked, because I knew that if Milo hadn't picked up the phone, we could have been in a much different situation.

"Family is a delicate thing," the receptionist soothed. "I understand. I'm glad that everything worked out the way it did. You're an amazing daughter. Not many people could carry this burden at your age."

I gave her a smile, hoping she didn't notice the way that my lips quivered or how my eyes welled yet again.

I said nothing about what happened to my parents, not that they would understand. Even though I had rebandaged my hand to protected my nail beds, my mother and father didn't notice. Even though I broke into horrible, hacking sobs more than once, neither of them said anything. Frankly, I wasn't sure if I cared. It was enough for me that I could smooth my dad's hair off his forehead, that I could help my mom wash her face. I told my dad about my car, about how much I was paying for rent and how my utilities went up again. I told my mom about a new sunscreen I was using and how much I had missed both of them.

Blank faces always stared back at me.

Helpless.

Confused.

Vulnerable.

I began sobbing all over again, thinking about how I could have left them.

Eventually, I got the tears under control and trusted my shaky hands enough to drive myself home. I was barely out of my car when Ryder came barreling out of the house.

I had been in such a daze this morning that I had hardly acknowledged him sleeping on my couch. Now, he was red faced and yelling, "Where the fuck did you go? I trusted you to be reasonable! Fuck, Georgia! If you think that you can just run away—"

"Lower your voice. Do you want someone calling the police?" I barked, glancing towards the small houses around us.

"You can't just fucking leave like that! I was about to call Ajax and issue a man hunt. Do you know what would happen if Ajax thought you couldn't be trusted? Do you even care?"

I stared at him then, studied the man before me. even now, with raw eyes and an aching heart, I still saw how handsome he was. I still saw the way he smiled and his chest bounced with laughter. I hated it. just as much as I hated the idea of getting into my car and driving and driving until I was sure I would never see him again.

"Take comfort in knowing that I'm just as lost with you as I am without you," I grumbled, then stalked back into my home. 

~~~Distraction Section~~~

We have hit 30,000 reads!!! Woohoo! Sometimes when I read old books of mine and I see these posts, I marvel at how far we have come. To celebrate -- as we must -- I will be updating for three days in a row. Which takes us right to Sunday when I resume my normal updates. Buckle up!

Question of the Day: Have you ever been on a terrible date?