"You ungrateful bitch. I keep a roof over your head, and this is the thanks I get?"
"You could have killed her," I retort, trying to muster up confidence that I don't possess. "What if she goes to the cops, Dad? That bruise on her face is enough to...
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I lie on my back, staring up at my bedroom ceiling like it holds all the answers. My head aches. My whole body aches.
The handle of Jack beside my bed is practically calling my name. It takes all of my self-restraint not to reach out and grab it.
"Layla, honey, can we talk?" Moira asked, patting the chair beside her.
"Um, okay." I joined her at the table. "What's going on?"
"I have a proposition for you. You don't have to give me an answer right away. I was wondering if... if you wanted to move in with Damian and me for the rest of your senior year?"
The answer should have been obvious. I've wanted to live with the Forbes since I was five years old. Moira is the mom I never had, and Damian... well, he's the most important person in my life.
But the fact that she invited me to live with them means that she knows the truth about my father. I don't know if Damian broke his promise, or if she figured it out on her own, but she knows regardless. At any moment, Social Services could show up and take me away. I'd be forced to live in a foster home with a bunch of strangers, some of whom might be more ghastly than Hank.
I leap off my bed, fetch the bottle off the floor, and take it into the kitchen. I feel Hank's eyes on me as I dump the amber liquid into the sink.
"Fucking wasteful," he mumbles. "I would've drank that."
Ignoring him, I slip on my sneakers and run outside. The bitter October air slaps my face as I exit the trailer park and make my way to Damian's house.
The late hour doesn't stop me from knocking on the front door. Moments later, a disheveled, half-asleep Damian appears in front of me in nothing but a pair of basketball shorts that are loose around his hips.
Struggling to keep my gaze on his face, I rub my goosebump-covered arms and say one word: "Yes."
He blinks. "What...?"
"Yes, I will move in."
A vibrant smile lights up his face. "Really?"
My expression mirrors his. "Really."
He responds by scooping me up in his arms and lifting me half a foot off the ground.
<><><><><><>
"We need to be quick," I warn Damian after we teleport into my childhood bedroom.
"We're not staying any longer than we have to," he agrees.
After waking his poor mother from a sound sleep to inform her of my decision, she told us that we could start moving my stuff in the morning. I doubt that she meant three o'clock in the morning, but that's what Damian and I are doing.
