"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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On Sunday morning, we leave the beautiful metropolis that is Chicago and drive back to our dinky hometown. I'm sad to say goodbye. In just two days, I've fallen in love with the city.
My newfound wanderlust has me thinking I'll go to college far, far away from Michigan. Maybe I'll travel east and settle down in Boston or New York City. Maybe I'll move out west and become a Los Angeles girl. I've never seen a palm tree in real life before.
All I know is that my options are endless. For the first time in my life, I'm excited to see what the future holds.
Jessica, however, seems rather unenthused. She hasn't been herself since last night. She barely touched her dinner and then went to bed early, claiming she was exhausted from her tour.
"It's just been a long day," she told us. "I'll feel better after a good night's rest."
Of course, she didn't sleep. All night, I heard her tossing and turning. I know she's upset with us for blowing her off, and she has every right to be, but I wish she would verbalize her anger. This strange, everything-is-fine act is worse than being reprimanded.
When Heather's SUV stops in front of Damian's house, we thank the Jermains for inviting us and get our bags out of the trunk. Jessica offers a half-smile and a wordless wave before the car pulls away.
"She didn't even kiss me goodbye," a melancholy Damian says, carrying both of our suitcases into the house. "I always get goodbye kisses."
"She's pissed at us, Damian. We royally screwed up yesterday."
"I feel awful about that."
I nod my head in agreement. "I do, too."
As the weeks pass, Jessica continues to shun us. Damian is about to lose his mind. He misses his girlfriend. Even though they're still together, it feels as if they're broken up.
Fortunately, I've had various projects to keep my mind off of the drama. Between applying to universities, trying to prove Hank's guilt in the murder of Mr. and Mrs. Jermain, and attempting to "harness the power inside of me," I don't have time for much else.
I've sent out half a dozen college applications. I skipped the Ivies and went straight for schools that are more practical, not to mention affordable. I already received early acceptance from NYU. I'm hoping to hear back from MIT soon.
In Michigan, there is no statute of limitations for murder. Margo's letter is incriminating, but it isn't enough to lock Hank away. What I need is a confession. If I got him drunk enough, he'd probably spill all of his secrets. There are just two problems: I'm not living under the same roof as him anymore, and the drunker he gets, the more violent he becomes. I don't know if it's worth the risk.
And as far as my supposed superpower goes, I've accepted that it's possible, but I'm at a loss. Zane brought up valid points. Why else would numerous supernaturally inclined people want to be a part of my life? I always assumed it was because of my charm and quirky personality.
