The Hit List

Chapter 35

"There she is! My favorite youngest daughter. How was your trip? Did you take the bus?" My mom wrapped me up in her arms as soon as the door opened.

I breathed in the familiar scent, a sweetness from her hairspray. "It was fine Mom. I took a cab." She shook her head. "I could have picked you up if you'd just asked."

A pang of guilt filled my chest as my heart fluttered. "I know. It was fine though, a really quick ride."

Her gaze softened. "I'm just glad you made it here safely. There are so many stories on the news lately about crazy drivers. I'm your mom, I worry about you."

I could feel her concern as her eyes trailed every part of me. Checking for a reason to worry. "I know, mom, I promise I was careful."

She gave me a tender smile. "I believe you, sweetheart, but that won't stop the worrying." She kissed my forehead, and I could feel her lip gloss stick to my skin.

As my mom's embrace enveloped me once more, warmth washed over me. "Rachael's going to be coming up tomorrow with Sam. They couldn't find a cat sitter for today, and you know how much they love that cat."

I swallowed, my hand struggling to pull my arm out of the tight coat sleeve. My mother continued talking, oblivious to my shaking frame. It would be easy enough to blame it on lingering rain.

"Drew is just out with your father right now. Are you alright with the guest room? I have it all set up for you."

I nodded, making my way to the coat closet. I move in a sort of trance. This isn't the home I grew up in, but I've been here enough times to follow the layout with my eyes closed.

I hear her voice from the kitchen. "Are you hungry? There's some leftover pasta in the fridge. I just put it away, but you can just reheat it in the microwave."

"I'm fine. I ate before I left." She nods, turning on the hallway light. "Do you want a glass of wine? I have a white in the fridge, I picked it up at the store today for you."

There was a part of myself that wanted to say no. To avoid the possibility of allowing myself to loosen my lips. But I'm weak. I'm weak and I say yes before I even realize it has passed through my lips. It's in my hand before I can change my mind. I'm tasting it before I can even try to stop myself.

It's bittersweet. A burn that finds me in the same fashion as darkness does. An old friend. Only this one takes hold of my throat from the inside rather than outwardly.

My mom smiles, a glass she holds out in her hand. "Cheers!" Her smile is bright. It always has been.

Returning my mother's smile, I clinked my glass against hers.

The sound of their meeting reverberated softly around the kitchen.

I wordlessly followed her to the couch, sitting next to her as she muted the television. An old movie silently flashed across the screen.

I pulled my legs up beside me, my frame quickly shrinking beside her. A reminder of the tiny human she created.

"So, how's work?" I subtly looked away from her, praying she wouldn't read the lie as it flashed across my face. "It's good."

"Have you talked to your manager about that promotion? Four years is a long time to not move up in a company."

My eyes still avoided hers. "Yeah, he said he'd talk to the higher-ups. See if I can be next in line when something opens up."

I don't remember when the lying started. Or when it became so simple. As though everything I spoke would eventually make its way into honesty.

When I realized how easily it was to be believed once trust was built. How no one second-guesses somebody they love.