Chapter 1

EMILY

Five years ago, when I left this town, I never expected to come back. Of course, at first, I wanted to return—to my parents, my friends, to have my life back. But life had a cruel way of burying those feelings deep inside me.

The idea of returning under these circumstances only made everything worse, but my father needed me, so I had to be strong and face whatever came my way, swallowing my ghosts and nightmares for his sake.

My brother had just found out that his wife, Helen, was pregnant, and I couldn’t ruin their celebration because Dad was struggling with his drinking again. Truth be told, he’d been a problem for a long time, ever since Mom passed away. We just didn’t realize how much worse it had gotten. When Janice called me, saying he’d ended up in the hospital after drinking heavily and getting hurt, I knew I had to step in. Especially when he decided to fire Janice, the woman who’d worked for our family since I was a kid, who’d helped raise me. He must have been out of his mind, or the alcohol had completely ruined his once-sharp judgment.

By now, he was back home, and I prayed he wasn’t drinking again. The last thing I needed was to deal with him drunk.

I waited on the sidewalk as the taxi driver unloaded my suitcase, staring at the closed-up house with its thick brown curtains covering the tall windows. It was still the same pale blue house I grew up in, but something about it felt different now. I couldn’t quite place it. Maybe it was me who’d aged, and everything just seemed different.

I crossed the small lawn where the flowers Mom used to plant were no longer there, though at least the grass had been recently mowed.

The hot, stale air hit me as I opened the front door. He clearly hadn’t taken out the trash in a while—probably since he fired Janice. I could also tell he wasn’t opening doors or windows to air out the house, leaving it stifling and uncomfortable.

“Dad?” I called, leaving my suitcase at the entrance and heading toward the living room. But I spotted him before I got far. “Dad!” I shouted when I saw his body slumped on the floor.

I rushed to his side, dropping to my knees and grabbing his wrist to check his pulse. I let out a relieved breath—it was weak, but he was alive. I shook him, but he didn’t respond. A bottle on the rug caught my eye; the whiskey was already less than half full.

We knew Mom’s death would destroy him, but I never imagined he’d sink this low. They were inseparable, having known each other since they were young, and by the time they got married, they’d already loved each other for years.

“Dad,” I murmured, brushing his hair, now grayer than the last time I saw him, his wrinkles more pronounced even in his unconscious state.

Mom passed away last year after battling cancer. When she finally found peace, I believe if she’d known how Dad would react, she would’ve fought a little longer to give him strength. She did everything for that man.

I grabbed his arms and dragged him as best I could to the downstairs bedroom—the one where Mom spent months fighting that damn disease. I lifted him slowly, pushing his body onto the bed and arranging him as best I could.

This had to change. He needed professional help!

Defeated, I started dragging my suitcase to my old room but stopped, shocked, when I opened the door. Everything was the same. Mom hadn’t touched a thing—not a single photo or teddy bear was missing. Even the curtains and bedspread were the ones I remembered.

I couldn’t sleep there, in that vortex of memories and reminders. I quickly turned to the guest room and tossed my things inside. I knew coming back would be hard, but I didn’t expect Mom to have left my room untouched all this time.

I took a deep breath. I needed to focus, do what I came here for, and get out as fast as possible.

I went looking for something to eat, hoping to have a conversation with Dad afterward. I hoped he’d agree to move with me without argument or resistance so I could keep an eye on him. But to my surprise, the cabinets were empty, and the pantry shelves had nothing better than some beans and cereal that was probably expired.

My God, I thought at the very least he’d be eating properly!

I slammed the cabinet doors and left, sighing in frustration. The town had a few small markets, but only one supermarket. Going to the smaller ones would set off the town gossip mill faster than I’d like, but at the supermarket, I could blend in. So, I had only one option.

In the garage, I found the old pickup truck parked. Everything in this place reminded me of things I’d tried to forget over the past five years. I was surprised when it started, and I managed to drive out.

After parking at the back of the supermarket, I walked through the aisles with my head down, the hood of my sweatshirt pulled up, trying to be as discreet as possible. Sure, the chances of people staring at me for looking like a weirdo dressed like this in the heat were high, but it might keep me from being recognized.

“Can you grab that for me?” a sweet voice said beside me. “I told him I couldn’t reach, but my brother said if I wanted it, I’d have to get it myself,” the little girl said, pointing to a pack of cookies just out of reach of her outstretched arms.

I handed it to her, and a gap-toothed smile appeared, making me smile too as she skipped away.

“Dude, you almost made me forget the milk. Carla would kill me,” I heard a voice I knew all too well and wanted to forget.

I turned to face the shelf in front of me as he ran through the aisle I was in.

Carla? So that’s it, he was with her after all?

No, I didn’t want to know! It wasn’t my business! I took a deep breath and rushed to the first empty checkout I saw.

Of all the people to run into when I got back to town, it had to be him. What a mess!

I heard whispers and felt my body start to heat up. Maybe they weren’t talking about me. *Breathe, Emily, just breathe!*

“Emily?” I heard a louder murmur and kept my head down as I bagged my groceries. As soon as I threw the bags into the cart, I turned to run, but he was staring at me from two checkouts away with his friends.

Our eyes met for a fraction of a second, and I regretted not wearing sunglasses.

I fled quickly before I could make an even bigger fool of myself.

“Damn it! Damn it!” I shouted once I was inside the car. “Breathe, it’s over. You’re an adult now,” I repeated, looking at myself in the car’s mirror.