BOOK TWO OF THE SCARLETT CHRONICLES |
After being kidnapped as a young child, seventeen year old Scarlett Grey found her way home to her family. For months, she struggled to find a balance between the girl she'd left behind and the girl she had beco...
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FRIDAY NIGHT WAS quiet. My dad and I had a peaceful dinner— he cooked, of course, seeing as he was the only member of our household who didn't seem to burn water. Afterward, we spent a few hours in the study, my nose buried in one of Mum's old novels while he sipped some of the vintage Scotch that he reserved for times when work was exceptionally frustrating.
I was in bed, tossing and turning restlessly, by ten o'clock.
On Saturday, I lazed around in bed catching up on my Netflix queue and finishing up a chemistry worksheet I had been ignoring. It was hardly the most exciting to way a Saturday morning, but I'd had worse.
After I'd finished scarfing down a sandwich for lunch, I popped my head into my father's study. As expected, his head was bent over his desk, but he looked up as soon as I said his name.
"Oh, good morning, sweetheart. How are you this morning?" Dad asked, leaning back in his chair and letting out a deep breath.
"I'm good, Daddy," I said smoothly, smiling softly. I was learning to avoid using the word "fine" when he asked me this. As oblivious as my father could be sometimes, he had picked up on the fact that "fine" never actually meant I was fine.
"You didn't have any plans for tonight did you?" I asked, biting my lip hopefully.
My father frowned. "I'm so sorry I've been cooped up in here these last few days, Scarlett. I'm aware that I told you I would be cutting down on my workload to spend more time with you, but—"
I held up a hand to cut him off. "Don't worry about it, Daddy, I don't mind. I was only asking 'cause I was hoping you wouldn't mind if I went out tonight."
My father's eyebrows arched in some level of surprise. My social life had been null these past few months, and I'd hadly spent a night away from home since Mum, so this wasn't a common conversation between us.
His hands folded in front of him, a very fatherly expression crossing his face. "Do you have something special planned, then?"
"Not really," I fibbed easily, shrugging my shoulders. It wasn't exactly a lie, really. "Rae and I are having a movie night at her place. Pizza and junk food, you know. The works."
