“I’m not your daughter. I never was.” Shoving past Carter, I rushed from the room, unable to stay another second in this house. I couldn’t breathe. I was suffocating, drowning in a sea of lies and truths.
“Josephine, wait,” Angie called out, shoving to her feet. “Where are you going? You can’t leave.”
Like hell, I can’t.
I reached the stairs and from behind me, I heard footsteps chasing after me. “Josephine!” she screamed, panic causing her voice to shriek. “Josephine!”
I didn’t stop. I didn’t look over my shoulder. I just ran out the front door and into the stormy night with only my phone and the clothes on my back.
Chapter Eighteen
The wind howled like a wounded animal alone in the woods. Plumes of rain poured down over my head, but I barely noticed. It was difficult to focus on anything else when my life was such a mess. I don’t know what I thought would happen when I confronted Angie. Had a part of me actually believed she could discredit the proof I’d seen? That she would have a rational explanation?
And yet, I was also relieved she wasn’t my mother.
Mikayla. My name was Mikayla Edwards.
What a strange thought. I’d only ever been Josie James.
Grayson. Kenna. And Mikayla.
What would the three of us become if we’d been together?
I continued to walk mindlessly in the rain, my hair being tossed around my face by the wind. Why the fuck couldn’t it have been sunny and cheery on the day my world imploded? It was as if the universe felt my deep-rooted sadness and mourned with me.
Time to say goodbye to this life. Metaphorically and literally.
And I did just that, never once looking back.
I didn’t know what my future held, but the storm would not last forever. At some point, the sun would come out, a new day would be born, and hope would rise on the horizon.
It just really sucked at the moment.
Flipping up the hood on my sweatshirt, I ducked under a tree and pulled out my phone. I stared at the screen as it lit up, gnawing on my lower lip.What do I do now?Who do I call?
I was essentially homeless. Again.
I couldn’t go back to the Pattersons’. Not now. Not ever.
Brock was the first name that popped in my head, not surprising and my finger hovered over his name, but then I remembered. His parents were home.
There were several other friends I could call, including Ainsley or Mads. I also could always call Easton. Now might be a good time to tell him the truth, but I didn’t have the energy to have that conversation. I was fucking exhausted after dealing with Angie and Carter.
I knew where I wanted to go. I didn’t want my friends. Or even Brock. Not today.
Today, I needed someone who would understand. I needed my brother.
With my mind made up, I sat on the curb and dialed his number. It rang and rang, before going to voicemail.Shit. I had nowhere to go and couldn’t stay out in here in the rain, so I requested an Uber through the app on my phone.
Twenty minutes later, I stood outside the Edwardses’ home. Even the somber storm couldn’t dim the beauty of this house. The windows warm glow reflected like a lighthouse in the dark, guiding me home.
Except… this wasn’t my home, no matter how much I might want it to be.
A crash of thunder vibrated at my back as I pulled the white hood from my sweatshirt closer around my face, not that it helped all that much. Soaked to the bone, I stood on the porch, wondering if I’d made a mistake in coming here. Before I could change my mind, I pressed the doorbell, my fingers shaking from both the cold and from the residual effects of my fight with Angie.
I wrapped my arms around myself as I waited, my hood shielding most of my face. It wasn’t long until I heard shuffling from the other side of the door. The lock flipped, and a woman’s laugh filtered over the rolling storm.
Did Grayson have a girl over?