I hold there, frozen and waiting for the burn in my eyes to come. The sting of tears. The pain in my throat.
Wanting the tears to come.
Wishing they would come.
But they don’t. And that worries me more than my parents’ death. There’s a name for people who lack remorse. People who can’t empathize. People who demonstrate strong anti-social attitudes.
I’m not a sociopath. I mean, I cried during the Battle of Winterfell on Game of Thrones. But I don’t cry—not once—when both of my parents die?
At least no one in this town will care about me or how I’m coping with their deaths. The only person back home who’d understand is Mirai.
And then I blink, realization hitting. “Mirai…”
Shit. I throw back the covers and climb out of bed, heading for the chest of drawers where my phone is charging. I grab it, turn it on, and see a list of missed notifications—mostly calls from my mother’s assistant.
Ignoring the voicemails, I dial Mirai, noticing it’s before six on the west coast as I hold the phone to my ear.
She answers almost immediately.
“Mirai,” I say before she says anything.
“Tiernan, thank goodness.”
She breathes hard, like she either ran to the phone or just woke up.
“Sorry, my ringer was off,” I explain.
“You’re okay?”
“I’m fine.”
Chills spread up my arms, so I flip open the top of my suitcase and pull out my black sweatshirt, juggling the phone as I try to slip it over my head.
“So…are you going to stay?” she asks after a pause. “You know you don’t have to. If the house isn’t comfortable or you feel weird—”
“I’m okay,” I tell her. “The house is nice, and he’s…” I trail off, searching for my next word. What is he? “Hospitable.”
“Hospitable,” she repeats, clearly suspicious.
I clear my throat. “So how is the world?” I ask, changing the subject. “Anything that needs me?”
“Just take care of yourself,” she says, and I don’t miss the way she cuts me off. “I won’t bug you again. Call me if you want—I want you to—but I’ll stick to texts to check in from time to time. I just want you to forget about everything here for a while, okay? I got it handled.”
I look around the bedroom I slept in, thankful I have it to myself, because at least I have one place here that’s mine where I can go to be alone.
But the thought of walking out of this room and confronting new people makes my stomach roll, and I…
Just book me a flight back home, Mirai. I want to tell her that.
But I don’t.
Jake seems to be amenable to letting me be and not pushing too hard, but Noah is friendly. Too friendly.
And I’ve yet to meet Kaleb, so that’s another new person coming.
I walk for the double doors, needing some air.
The least of my worries should be what people are thinking or saying about my absence back home—and what they’re thinking and saying about my parents—but I can’t help it. I feel like far away and out of the loop is suddenly the last place I should be right now. Especially when I’ve foolishly hung my hat in the middle of nowhere, with some guy my father hated, and on land that smells like horse shit and dead, rotting deer carcasses.