Traces of Delilah

Seven

Delilah seemed to have made more enemies than I was willing to deal with, when she was alive. The fact that they didn't seem to care that she was dead, was even more alarming. Silvia, for instance, didn't show one bit of remorse when she uttered an insult about a dead girl. Was that normal? I guess if someone carried enough hate in their heart, it was.

It was interesting to see how many skeletons people hid in their closets. How secrets tested the waters of friendship . . . even if they were too dark to handle. So far, I didn't see any signs of a girl wanting to kill herself and her family. But I guess that was only the tip of the iceberg leading up to the event. I couldn't be so sure.

My father's voice buzzed in the back of my head, as my thoughts took center focus. I hadn't meant to tune him out, but I couldn't stop thinking about Silvia, and Oliver, and Delilah—who she was as a person before she dug her own grave.

It didn't help that, that little bit of information I read about in the article, was useless. Her case was as dry as the Sahara Desert. The police reports were questionable too. At this point, I was sure someone purposely screwed up the details.

Four days in and this town was too shady for my taste. How Skylar managed with all the bullshit, was beyond me. Huh, and her temper was worse than mine. At this rate, I was ready to move back to New York.

"So, how are you enjoying Connecticut so far?"

"Huh? What?" I asked, confused.

"Connecticut"—my dad laughed through the phone—"where is your head, little bits?"

My heart swelled at the nickname my dad had been calling me ever since I was a little girl. If he wasn't calling me that anymore, I knew I was no longer his little girl. And if I was no longer his little girl, that meant he was ready to stop claiming me as his own.

I cleared the negative thought out of my head. "Sorry, I was just thinking about something. It's been okay. Nothing special." Besides the few bad apples, I kept meeting out of the bunch.

"Have you made any new friends?"

"Uh," I trailed. The day I ran into Andrew and his sister plagued my mind. "Yeah, I guess I did. I haven't been talking to him long though. He's one of Skylar's boyfriends' friends."

"He?" my dad repeated.

"Yes, he dad." I chuckled.

Ever since I saw Andrew and his sister the other day, he and I had been texting off and on. Somehow, he had convinced me to give him my number before we separated. I guess I had no room to complain since I could have easily refused. We had plans on meeting up one of these days so he could show me around town. I couldn't help it; he was funny, charming, and he had a way with words. That was enough to win me over.

"Hey, I'm just asking. I'm not used to my daughter hanging out alone with people, let alone guys," he defended, adding emphasis to guys. My heart swelled again when he said his daughter. One would think after twenty-one years, that I'd been raised by him; I'd have gotten used to it. Well, I didn't.

"Who said anything about hanging out with him?" I teased.

"Well, are you?" my dad pressed on. When I went quiet, he laughed. "See? Was I wrong to assume?"

"Okay, okay. I get it. My lunch is about to end. I'll call you back later, okay?"

"Okay," he said, "love you, talk to you later." After repeating his words back to him, the line went dead. I had roughly about eighteen minutes before it was time for me to get back to work. So, I stuffed the rest of my sandwich in my mouth and began towards the shopping center.