by A. K. Evans
Copyright 2020 by A.K. Evans
All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the author except in the case of brief quotations in a book review.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead, is coincidental.
Cover Artist
cover artwork © Sarah Hansen, Okay Creations
www.okaycreations.com
Editing & Proofreading
Ellie McLove, My Brother’s Editor
https://www.mybrotherseditor.net
Formatting
Stacey Blake at Champagne Book Design
www.champagnebookdesign.com
CONTENTS
Title Page
Copyright
Prologue
One
Two
Three
Four
Five
Six
Seven
Eight
Nine
Ten
Eleven
Twelve
Thirteen
Fourteen
Fifteen
Sixteen
Seventeen
Eighteen
Nineteen
Twenty
Twenty-One
Twenty-Two
Twenty-Three
Twenty-Four
Twenty-Five
Twenty-Six
Twenty-Seven
Twenty-Eight
Twenty-Nine
Epilogue
Acknowledgments
Connect with A.K. Evans
Other Books by A.K. Evans
About A.K. Evans
“If you do the vacuuming, I’ll do the bathrooms.”
“Okay, Parker,” my little sister, Kaia, agreed.
“We’ve got an hour to finish all that and get dinner ready.”
“I’ll do it as fast as I can,” she promised.
“Just make sure it’s spotless,” I warned her.
There was a look of worry on her face as she nodded at me. I’d grown used to the look. I was sure she saw something similar on my face now and then.
As much as I wanted to reassure her, I couldn’t. We didn’t have time.
“Go get started,” I told her. “Meet me in the kitchen when you’re done.”
Without another word, Kaia walked out of our bedroom to get the vacuum. I followed her out, moved down the hall, and went into the bathroom. No sooner had I gotten the cleaning products out and opened the shower curtain to clean the bathtub when Kaia returned.
“Parker?” she called.
“Yeah?”
“Something is wrong with the vacuum,” she said.
“What do you mean?” I asked.
“Everything is staying on the floor,” she answered.
I sighed. “The roller is probably clogged with hair,” I explained as I straightened up and walked toward her. “Let’s go look at it.”
Sure enough, a few minutes later, I learned I had guessed correctly. I had to spend the next fifteen minutes cutting the hair out of the roller so Kaia would be able to complete the vacuuming. I got everything working again as quickly as I could and hurried back up to the bathroom.
There was no missing the awful feeling I had in the pit of my stomach. We were running behind schedule.
Kaia and I had gotten home from school a little while ago. The minute we walked through the front door, we got started on our homework. We finished up simultaneously, and now we needed to get to work on our chores. Today was vacuuming and cleaning the bathrooms before we made dinner.
I didn’t necessarily mind having chores to do. What worried me was when we ended up falling behind schedule. Kaia and I had learned that we needed to do whatever was necessary to stay on track.
Because if we didn’t, we knew there would be a price to pay.
I was thirteen now; Kaia was ten. I’d been doing chores since I was nine.
Actually, I didn’t know why I referred to them as chores. We kept the house ourselves. Making dinner, cleaning dishes, washing laundry, vacuuming, dusting, cleaning the bedrooms and bathrooms, and changing the bedsheets were on the regular list of weekly chores. We did that on top of homework and studying.
Our routine had become such a part of our daily lives that I normally didn’t give it a second thought. The only time I really started to think about it was when something happened to interrupt what we needed to get done.
As of right now, we were going to be cutting it close.
I got the bathroom done as quickly as I could, raced downstairs, and started preparing dinner as my heart pounded in my chest.
Luckily, I was making spaghetti, meatballs, and garlic toast. It was simple to make, but it was going to be right down to the wire.
Two minutes before the front door opened, Kaia joined me in the kitchen.
“What can I do?” she asked.
“I’m almost done with the food,” I answered. “Can you set the table and get drinks out?”
“Sure.”
As the front door opened, Kaia had successfully finished setting the table while I carried the plates to it.
Our father walked in, and his eyes swept across the table as he made his way to the kitchen to put his empty lunch containers in the sink. Not even a full minute later, we were seated at the dinner table.
Kaia and I always remained quiet through dinner. Truthfully, anytime we were around our dad, we remained quiet. He was an unreadable man, so it was hard to say what his mood would be on any given day at any particular moment.
“Is your homework done?” he asked after having taken several bites of his food.
Though he never directed his attention at one of us specifically, nor did he call our name, we both knew the question was meant for both of us.
“Yes, sir,” Kaia answered.
“What about the bathrooms?” he pressed.
“Both bathrooms have been cleaned, and the vacuuming has also been done,” I replied.
There was a slight dip of his chin as he returned his attention to his meal. And from that point forward, we knew no more words would be spoken.
Once Isaac Banks confirmed what he needed to know from his daughters, the conversation was finished. We knew better than to interrupt him while he was eating and didn’t speak unless spoken to.
On the one hand, I guess it was a bit comforting to reach this point. At the very least, there was an understanding of what would happen for the remainder of the night. The most intense and uncomfortable part of our day was behind us because after he finished eating, our father would retire to the living room where he’d watch a couple of hours of television while Kaia and I cleaned up the dinner dishes and his lunch containers, make sure everything was put away, climb the stairs, take our showers, and spend time with each other until it was time for bed. Most nights, we had ourselves already in bed before our father walked in. He’d turn off the light and close the door behind him as he left.
That was precisely what I had expected would happen tonight.
But not everything went according to plan.
Initially, all was going well. We finished dinner, he moved to the living room, and Kaia and I cleaned up.
We had both finished taking showers and drying our hair. It was crazy hair day at school tomorrow. Having to come up with ideas on our own, I recalled a few girls last year who had told me they braided their n
ormally straight hair at night to make it look wavy the next morning before they styled it. I told Kaia about it, and she was so excited. So, I braided her hair for her.
“Are you going to do yours the same?” she asked as she got up from my bed and walked across the room to hers.
“You won’t mind if we do the same thing?”
She shook her head. “No. Sometimes I wish we were twins,” she shared.
“Really? Why?”
Kaia shrugged. “I don’t know,” she started. “It’s just that there are two girls in my class that are twins. It’s so cool that they’ll always be together through school. Plus, they even said that they could feel each other’s feelings. Like if one of them is happy, the other knows it. Or if one of them is in pain, the other can feel it. I always want to be that close to you.”
I stared at my sister and wanted to cry. She was the best thing I had in this world. A world that was often cruel. And while I knew some kids had it worse than we did, I sometimes hated what we had to endure.
“Kaia?” I called.
“Yeah?”
“We don’t have to be twins to be that close,” I told her. “Maybe we won’t be in the same classes at school since we’re in different grades, but that doesn’t mean anything. And trust me, we’re already like twins.”
“We are?”
I nodded and smiled at her. “If you’re ever upset or in pain, I feel it,” I said. “And when you’re happy, I feel that, too.”
Kaia’s eyes widened. “You do?”
“Yes.”
The look of surprise on her face vanished and was replaced by sadness. Before she could say anything, I questioned her. “Why does that make you sad?”
“I don’t think I have it,” she answered.
“Have what?”
“I don’t feel your pain or happiness,” she confessed.
Offering her a sympathetic smile, I explained, “Well, I couldn’t feel it right away either. I don’t think it was until I was closer to eleven that I started recognizing it for what it was. If you’re like me, you’ll probably just need a little more time.”
Understanding washed over her. “That makes sense.”
“Okay, I’ll do my hair the same as yours,” I stated. “Then, we can dress in similar colors tomorrow and feel like we’re twins.”
Kaia’s face lit up. Seeing that look made my day.
I’d just finished braiding my hair when we heard the thundering sound of our father’s footsteps climbing the stairs. I glanced at the clock and noticed it wasn’t quite bedtime yet.
Confusion came over me, and I realized then that Kaia had been wrong. She knew what I felt because she took one look at me, and terror came over her.
We’d had a couple of good weeks lately. I couldn’t think of anything we’d done wrong, but we might have forgotten something.
A few seconds later, our bedroom door opened, and our father walked in carrying an envelope.
“What’s this?” he asked.
I grew even more confused because I hadn’t seen the small white envelope before now. But I took a moment to glance at his face and saw he wasn’t even looking in my direction. His eyes were pinned on Kaia.
And my sister?
She was visibly shaking.
“I asked a question,” he clipped.
“I… I got it in school today,” Kaia stammered. “My friend, Stacey, is having a birthday party next weekend.”
Oh no.
Kaia must have forgotten to take the invitation out of her backpack to throw it away.
We knew parties weren’t an option. We weren’t even allowed to participate in after-school sports.
“There are no parties,” our dad sneered. “None. I’m not going to work all day long to make money for you to squander it on someone’s birthday party nonsense.”
“I know, sir,” Kaia murmured.
He took two steps toward her bed, bent at the waist, and pressed his clenched fists into the mattress. Kaia began shaking with terror.
“If you know that, why would you even bring it home?”
His voice was scary and only inches away from her face.
Kaia continued to shake. Her eyes never met his. “I… I…” she stammered again.
I watched as my father straightened himself up and started to pull his hand back. I knew what was coming, and I couldn’t let it happen.
I jumped off my bed and shouted, “It was my fault!”
He froze. Well, everything but his eyes did. They came to me, and I saw nothing nice in them.
“What does that mean?” he asked as he dropped his hand.
Relieved that he wasn’t going to hurt Kaia, I had to think quickly. That’s when I blurted, “When we got home from school, Kaia told me about the invitation. Stacey has been a good friend to her in class, so I knew how much it would have meant for Kaia to go to the party. I told her to hold on to the invitation, and maybe we could figure out a way to have you agree to let her go. We’re willing to do extra chores or find a way to earn extra money so Kaia could buy a present. This way, you won’t need to pay for one.”
Something came over him. I didn’t know what it was. I had gotten really good at reading my sister. I only knew a few of my father’s reactions and what they meant. This wasn’t one I’d ever seen before now.
Luckily, he walked away from Kaia’s bed. Unfortunately, he started coming toward me. It was okay. At least my sister was safe.
When he stopped just inches in front of me, his voice dropped dangerously low as he asked, “You think you can change my rules?”
I swallowed hard. “No, sir.”
“No?” he repeated. “It just sounded to me like you did.”
“I’m sorry,” I apologized. “It was a mistake.”
I barely got the words out when I felt the back of his hand connect with the side of my face. My body flew back onto the bed as pain seared my cheek. As my hand came to my cheek, I sat up. A normal person would have stayed down. I didn’t.
Because I knew if I did, it would only be worse.
It would end much sooner if I took the punishment standing. So that’s what I did. Or, that’s what I attempted to do. Even though my father was careful about how he struck me so I’d never end up with a black eye or a visible mark, it was still far too powerful for a thirteen-year-old girl to take without flinching. I did the best I could to be strong, though. And I’d do it because I knew that as long as he was abusing me, he wasn’t abusing Kaia. And she was the only thing that mattered to me.
I didn’t have any sense of time. It always felt like an eternity, even if it only lasted a few minutes.
Through it all, I never once made eye contact. Not with him. Not with Kaia.
When it finally ended, after he walked out and I heard the door to his bedroom close, I ran into the bathroom and cleaned the blood from my face. Then I stripped out of my bloody pajamas, put on new ones, and climbed into bed.
It had to have been at least ten minutes after we’d been there in the dark when Kaia called, “Parker?”
“Yeah?” I rasped.
“I feel it.”
Unsure of what she meant, I asked, “What do you feel?”
There was no answer for a long time. Then I heard movement before I felt the mattress dip. A moment later, Kaia had curled her body up against mine. Then she croaked, “Your pain.”
Tears leaked from my eyes as I held on to my sister.
“I’m sorry about the invitation, Parker,” she apologized after some time had passed. I couldn’t miss the anguish in her voice.
“It’s okay,” I assured her. “I’m okay.”
The silence stretched again before she whispered, “I love you.”
“I love you, too.”
With that, no additional words were spoken. We stayed there like that, holding on to one another because we knew we were all we had.
And because that was the case, I knew if the situation ever presented itself again, I’d do the same
thing for my sister. If it ever came down to it, I’d always step in the line of fire for her.
I slammed my office phone down into its cradle. The sound of it didn’t even come close to matching the frustration I felt.
I wasn’t an unreasonable human being, but this was getting ridiculous.
It was well past the time for me to leave work and go home, but I was still here. I’d sat on the phone for the last twenty-four minutes waiting on hold to speak with someone at my internet service provider company. I should have made the call from my cell phone so that I could have already been out the door and on my way to my next task, but I never expected I’d be on the phone for this long. I mean, this was a communications company. Shouldn’t they have excelled at communicating?
I sighed.
It seemed par for the course for me this week. This had been the worst week I could remember ever having in my entire adult life. Admittedly, when things went haywire in my life, I didn’t exactly respond to it well.
I never had.
And that was when I had a single catastrophe to deal with at a time.
Though, my definition of a catastrophe differed slightly from what many others might consider one to be.
Modern-day inconveniences are, by and large, the bane of my existence. I was the woman who always seemed to hit every red light when I was already running late for something. It wasn’t unheard of for me to pick up a pen that had no ink left in it.
Typically, I did what I could to let those nuisances roll off my back.
But this week?
This week had piled all the shittiest of situations on top of my shoulders. I had had enough, and I needed to get out of here.
There was no more time to waste. I still had so much to do because everything that could go wrong this week did go wrong, and it all started late Sunday afternoon.
From there, things spiraled out of control. That meant that I was now on the verge of completely losing my mind.
At this point, there was little else I could do other than try to work through each problem. After gathering up my things, I gave my office one last look before walking out toward the reception area.
“Heading out, Dr. Banks?” Trisha, my receptionist, asked.
“Yes,” I answered. “This has been a week.”