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Haze had suggested cooking with his sister for her school bake sale after she’d told him she wished her parents didn’t hand off bought cookies at each of her school’s event. Haze knew there was nothing Desiree wanted more than to be a part of something, to show up with home-baked food on Monday, too.

Although the fourteen-year-old boy would’ve preferred death over admitting it, he was a pretty decent cook for a teenager. He’d had a nanny he adored as a kid, who had been fired after Ms. Adams had suspected she was trying to seduce her husband. Eight-year-old Haze was constantly bored back then. So bored he’d end up watching the woman work in the kitchen. She’d eventually invited him to join and taught him everything he knew.

“You know Dad loves you, right? I’m sure he’ll come out to play with you tomorrow.” Haze almost choked on his lies. He wanted to be hateful, wanted to criticize his father. He wanted Des to know how much her dad sucked, but he couldn’t bring himself to tell her. He had to let his sister believe there was a good man behind that closed office door. For as long as humanly possible. If not forever, at least until she was old enough to understand how cruel the real world could be.

“It’s okay. He’s busy,” she said quietly.

Busy being a waste of oxygen, Haze thought. He offered to read her the storybook she loved so much. She accepted, running to the living room to grab said book. It cheered her up. It always did.

“Do the voices! Do the voices!” she giggled, huddling up against her big brother on the couch. He complied, sending her laughter through the roof. By the time the story was over, she’d turned back into her regular self. A bundle of joy and sunshine.

Their parents called them into the kitchen minutes later. They were leaving for some charity event they didn’t care about but needed for positive publicity.

“Thanks, Daddy,” Desiree said to Haze before she ushered her way to the kitchen to say goodbye to her parents. Haze cracked a miserable, faint smile. It wasn’t the first time she’d called him that by mistake. Haze got up and trailed behind his sister. He asked his parents where his older brother Tanner was. His father replied, “Getting in trouble somewhere.”

“You’re going to be okay for the night?” Anita, their mother, asked her youngest son.

“We’ll be fine, Mom. Don’t you know? I’m a pro babysitter now.” Haze rolled his eyes when his mother went in for a hug. Anita wasn’t the coldest woman out there. She did, sometimes, display signs of affection toward her children. The problem was those signs never came when it mattered most. She’d say she loved her kids, then keep her mouth shut while Mr. Adams made awful parenting decisions. It wasn’t what she said. It was what she didn’t.

Desiree reminded her father of his promise to play tomorrow, to which he replied, “Yes, honey, tomorrow.”

That night, Richard Adams walked right through the door of his mansion with no idea…

That his daughter’s tomorrow would never come.

NOW

“Is it someone that makes you sad?” Maika waves a quick hand before my eyes.

I force myself back to reality. I dozed off for a second there. “Who is?”

“The girl I remind you of? Does she make you sad?”

“No, not at all. She made me very happy. I think you two could’ve been great friends.” I smile.

“What’s her name?” she asks with sparkly eyes. “Maybe she could come over and play sometimes.”

My smile wavers.

“I… I’m sure she would’ve loved that.”

I have no idea how the fuck I’m supposed to tackle on this topic. Does she even know about death?

“Oh.” Realization seems to dawn upon her. “Is she with the angels?”

Good, someone had the talk with her.

“Yes, she is.”

Maika zeroes in on the floor. She doesn’t move a muscle for a good five seconds. Then, without a warning, she gets up, take a few steps forward, and wraps her tiny arms around my neck.

“I’m sorry, Hazie,” she whispers, her small voice heavy with sadness. I smile, hoping that the wound that was just blown wide open will close itself. Praying that my already weak stitches will hold a bit longer, keep me from bleeding out, allow me to swim in this pain before I drown.

“There. You need it more than I do.” She hands me her purple teddy bear.

I take it. “Well, thank you very much.”

“But you have to give it back when you’re not sad anymore, Hazie.”


Tags: Eliah Greenwood Rules Romance