Until We Break (Formerly Wicked, Wild, Wonderful)

Original Edition: Chapter Twenty-Six

Missing: Naomi Morgan

Beloved Daughter, Friend and Dancer

Help us get our baby back

If found please call!

"WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING? YOUR FAMILY MISSES YOU," CAIRO HUFFED.

"It's more complicated than that—" Naomi tried explaining, the words refusing to leave her head as they, along with millions of others, began to crawl, walk then sprint all in the space of an instant. A missing person's poster? She thought only caring, distraught families made that much noise in Riverside. Her's was more likely to wait in silence. And she was planning to have them wait forever.

In hindsight, she supposes, it was a ridiculous thought to entertain and she couldn't help but wonder if this part of them was what her little brother was referring to. The silent conversations they had that she never seemed to hear through the walls of the Morgan home. The parts of her parent she never knew existed.

"Isn't it?"

Before Cairo could continue, Saint stepped forward. "Naomi, your family is torn up about you leaving."

She was about to ask how they could ever know that. They didn't know the Morgans, their silent stares and obsession with being perfect all the time, everywhere— even in their sleep. But that thought didn't last very long.

"We went to your house," Lia said. There was a sad tone in her voice, like disappointment. "I don't think you thought any of this through. Running away is harder than it looks. You give up everything, you know. For the people you once knew, it's like death, but worse because they know you're out there, somewhere, but they know they'll never get to see you ever again anyway."

Naomi felt something bitter claw at her throat. Perhaps that's why her next sentence came out a little shaky, but it was better than the whimper she felt coming on. She looked up at each of them, especially Chyna who was still staring at the poster in her hands, and with helpless lamentation she said, "I can't go back."

Cairo shook his head. Saint's voice levelled the room calmly. "Why not? You still haven't old us anything, Naomi."

Naomi huffed. "They don't get me." It sounded pathetic and stupid and meaningless but it was all she could choke out when everyone's gazes were stuck onto her and a wetness she was sick of threatened to wash her face.

The Bull laughed loudly at that. Saint turned to say something to him but the other boy's face hitched onto Naomi's like a hook jutting into skin. In a heartbeat, his voice filled the space. "This isn't a charity! We don't take in stray little girls that run away from home just because they're a little misunderstood. There are real people out there who are actually forced out of their homes! Whose families disown them and have nowhere else to go! You? You could stroll through your front door right now and there would be fireworks sounding off. So, what is all of this for, Naomi?" Just like any other explosion, you never quite saw the danger coming until the blast had already knocked all of the air out of you and you were seeing fire reach for you like a tsunami. "Go home! We won't wait around until you feel better."

Saint clutched Cairo's shoulder and patted the spot, whispering something to the boy under his breath. "You think it's that easy?" Naomi snapped back. She took steps forward. "You don't know half of what I've been through!"

Cairo laughed. The sound of it in her face, loud and heartily, accentuated by the impossible look in the boy's eyes and the stillness of everyone else in the room. "Tell us! Please, tell us, you self-absorbed, attention-seeking bitch! No, better yet," he was still laughing painfully and it was ringing in Naomi's ears like the aftermath of nuclear explosives, "Tell it to Chyna, who saw her sister die in front of her at the hands of an officer and was about to serve time for it. No, no, no, tell it to Sully whose entire family turned to ash when he was eight and has been living on the streets ever since!"