Total pages in book: 93
Estimated words: 88889 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 444(@200wpm)___ 356(@250wpm)___ 296(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 88889 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 444(@200wpm)___ 356(@250wpm)___ 296(@300wpm)
“That would be great!” Sage exclaims.
“Hmm . . .” Dad playfully grumbles as he walks into the kitchen. “I hope you left some cake for me.”
Grinning, I reply. “Of course. We wouldn’t dare eat it all.”
Dad pulls the container from the fridge and gets a fork from the drawer before he leans back against the counter and starts eating.
“No, Harry!” Mom snaps. She makes a beeline for him and grabs the container from his hands. “Cut yourself a slice instead of eating like a barbarian.”
Dad steals another bite, and when she tries to slap his shoulder, he darts out of her reach.
With a playful scowl, Mom cuts two slices and places them on plates.
When they join us at the table, she asks, “What are you talking about?”
Sage gives me a panicked look, which has me answering, “I told Sage about my workshop. I want to get another table and more shelves.”
“I’ll have some time next month, then I can help you build the shelves,” Dad offers.
I nudge my shoulder against his. “That would be great. Thanks, Dad.”
“Do you still have enough space for all the shipping materials?” Mom asks.
“For now. But at some point, I might have to build onto the workshop.”
“How about we add a second floor because I’m not giving up more of my garden?” Mom replies.
“Oooh . . .” I smile happily. “I love that idea.”
Sage glances at Dad and changes the subject by saying, “I read in the newspaper that you’re clamping down on drugs and crime. How’s that going?”
Dad lets out a huff, a frustrated expression passing over his face. “You know how it is. You cut off one head of the snake, and two grow back. It feels like a never-ending battle.”
“You’re making a difference,” Mom says, her voice filled with pride.
Dad smiles at her before turning his attention back to the last piece of his cake. “I know. I just wish things would move faster and not at a snail’s pace.”
“You’re doing things for this town no one else has ever done,” Sage says. “And people are noticing.”
“Thanks, sweetheart.”
I lift my hand and rub Dad’s shoulder before gathering the empty plates. While I load them into the dishwasher, Mom says, “I’m calling it a night. I want to read a little before bed.” She presses a kiss to the top of Sage’s head, then comes to do the same to me. “Night, girls.”
“Night, Mom,” Sage and I reply.
My sister looks at me. “Do you want to watch a movie?”
“Sure. Just give me a few minutes to dry my hair.”
“Great!” She darts to her feet and heads for the pantry. “I’ll make popcorn.”
“You two enjoy the movie.” Dad gets up from the chair. “I’m going to lock up, then I’m turning in as well.”
“Night, Dad,” I say as I leave the kitchen.
“Night, buttercup.”
When I reach my bedroom, I shut the door so the noise of my hair dryer won’t bother my parents. I take a seat at my dressing table and pull the brush through my hair to get rid of the knots before I begin to dry the strands.
I have thick hair like Dad, and if I leave it to air-dry, I’ll end up looking like Hagrid from Harry Potter.
Halfway through the tiring process, I hear a sharp sound, and switching off the hair dryer, I frown as I listen more carefully.
“Noooo!”
Mom’s scream makes shock shudder through me. Dropping the hair dryer, I jump up and run out of my bedroom.
As I burst into the landing between the three bedrooms, where Mom’s bookshelves decorate the walls, I see a man with a ski mask grabbing hold of Mom’s hair and dragging her out of the main bedroom.
Paralyzing shock hits me so hard that the air leaves my lungs in a whoosh, and intense fear pours through me.
Mom’s face is bleeding, and she looks completely dazed as she tries to claw at the floor and walls to keep the man from dragging her with him.
Not thinking at all, I charge the man while a horrible-sounding cry tears loose from me. Icy pins and needles erupt over my skin, and as adrenaline fills my veins, it feels like I’m running down a long tunnel.
I lose all sense of time. Colors dim, and I swear my hearing sharpens until I’m able to hear every single sound in the house.
Dad’s grunts from downstairs.
Sage’s sobbing.
Mom’s wheezing.
My breaths saw over my lips, and as I jump onto the man, hooking one of my arms around his neck, another wave of shock saturates every fiber of my being.
“Fucking bitch,” the man growls.
He lets go of Mom and grabs hold of my arm, trying to shake me off. I have no idea how I’m able to function during the terrifying situation, but I repeatedly slam my fist against the side of his face and neck.