Avia Huxley has been waiting her whole life for senior year. Her mission: take down The Elites, a group who destroyed her mother's life years ago.
Now, their children are almost adults. Avia vows to destroy the new generation so something like her d...
All confrontation is based on deception. -Paul Watson
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From Marie's front steps, I race to my car at a speed I didn't know was humanly possible.
Snow is whipping past me, covering my eyelashes and numbing my toes. The door's locked, so I scramble to find the keys.
"Where are you going?" Marie screams, worried for my sanity, no doubt.
"Home," I reply just as I get my keys, start the car, and zoom away.
Through numerous winding backroads and the highway, my speed stays at a constant 60 miles per hour. I almost run two red lights but manage to break just in time.
Through my neighborhood, I go double the speed limit, no one is on the road this late anyway.
My thoughts are blank during my race home.
All I keep repeating is that it's not true. What Marie told me must have some explanation.
Repeating my mantra only leaves me more distressed, and my convertible starts weaving in and out of the lane.
Finally making my way home without driving off the side of the road is a miracle. The tires skid to a stop, trying to not lose their grip even on the thick layer of ice coating my driveway.
I slam the front door behind me, going up the stairs three steps at a time.
I can't feel sad. I can't feel anything until I know the truth.
Bursting through my mom's bedroom door doesn't wake her, so I turn on the light.
Nope, she's still sleeping like a baby.
I resort to shaking her awake, ignoring the consequences that usually would've terrified me. Obviously, she wakes up startled.
"Avia, what're you doing?" My mom asks, her eyes adjusting to the bright light.
"How was I born thirteen years after dad disappeared?" I cut to the chase, not wanting to play her mind games anymore.
My mom just looks confused and mumbles something incoherent. I don't respond.
"What are you talking about?" She clutches her head, growing more agitated by the second.
I'm not able to take her confusion any longer.
This is supposed to be me confronting her about her story, not her barely understanding what I'm saying. I stomp my foot on the floor like a child. This isn't going how I want it to.
"Dad disappeared thirteen years before I was born. How is that possible, mom?" I grit my teeth, trying to hold back the devil inside me from unleashing.
Her eyes widen, almost like this revelation is new to her. Like this is a secret even she didn't know.
