BOOK TWO OF THE SCARLETT CHRONICLES |
After being kidnapped as a young child, seventeen year old Scarlett Grey found her way home to her family. For months, she struggled to find a balance between the girl she'd left behind and the girl she had beco...
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AFTER RUNNING A few more tests, I was free to go home that night. My father and I rode home in the back of our family's Bentley, while my friends all piled back into the white Range Rover.
The trip back home from Providence was much quicker than I'd expected, given how long it had taken for me to get there, but apparently being able to take highways does wonders for travel time.
The house was dark and quiet when Clayton pulled the car around by the front porch, not a single light on in any of the picture windows. Isobel's car wasn't in its usual spot by the garage, meaning their was no one inside.
The girls refused to leave, even once my father and I were finally inside. They escorted me up to me room, where each of them had a bag of their things stashed away, made sure I got changed out of my sweats and into some comfortable pyjamas.
Dad knocked on the door shortly, joining us to make sure I was tucked in and to say goodnight. When he headed back to his room, against my wishes I might add, I waited for my friends to follow him out the door. But they didn't.
Aimee and Sienna made themselves comfortable on either side of me in my bed. Rachel claimed the couch Aimee had been sleeping on for the past week, while Aurora and Meghan had magically produced a couple of air mattresses that they laid out between my bed and the couch.
On any other given day, I'd have felt smothered by the constant attention, and would've made it painful aware to everyone in earshot. But today, I couldn't be bothered. Being surrounded by the people I loved was keeping me from wallowing in the inevitable depression that lay in my very near future.
So, for now, I wouldn't complain about my lack of personal space or privacy. I wouldn't complain about Sienna and Rachel bickering constantly while we were all trying to sleep. I wouldn't complain about Aimee hogging the bed covers, or Meghan's not-so-quiet snoring, or Aurora's phone constantly buzzing on the floor.
The day before, I had all but accepted that I would never see these wonderful, amazing, weirdos I called friends ever again. I'd done what I did to keep them safe.
But here I was, surrounded by them once again, a reminder that I wasn't alone anymore. A reminder I had a place where I belonged.
