by Anna Cruise
“I'm coming,” she announced.
“No, you're not.” My voice was sharp.
“You need help.”
“No, I don't.”
“Do you...” she faltered and tried again. “Do you want me to call Dad? Mom?”
I shook my head hard. “No. Absolutely not.”
“But, Lily...”
My voice was almost a whisper “Neither of them were on board with me leaving. They're sure as shit not going to be on board when they found out where my car broke down. And you're not gonna tell them. Got it?”
Jenna didn't respond and I could picture what she was doing. Chewing on her own lip, a nervous habit we'd both inherited from our mother. Tugging on her earlobe, twisting the diamond stud she always wore, her flesh turning an angry pink as she tightened her grip. Probably pulling a cigarette out of her purse, desperate to hold something so she wouldn't shove her fingernails into her mouth.
“Promise me,” I said. “Promise me you won't say anything. I'll be fine.”
“But...”
“No buts.”
“You can't go back there,” my sister said, her voice barely a whisper.
I didn't say anything for a long time, just held the phone to my ear, letting the silence hang over us.
Finally, I spoke. “I don't have a choice.”
***