The Blackout Girl ✔️

chapter three

"Billing people and making phone calls isn't exactly fun," Lexi deadpanned.

"But it pays," Delaney said.

"So does stripping, but I'm not about to do that either."

"Lexington!"

"Yes?"

"You and your brother are nothing but troublemakers."

"Always have been and always will be," said Lexi. "I'll see you tonight."

Within a few hours, everyone in the Robinson household would be out and about, running errands and heading to work. Well, everyone except Quinton, who would be coming home after class and playing video games for the afternoon. He was only twenty, so he got a free pass. The family would be shocked if he ever grew up. That was Q, always young, always full of energy.

Lexi wasn't sure how he did it. He seemed so carefree while she worried about everything. Her student loans were piling, and she was forced to work the terrible desk job at the medical center to keep up with them. She was lucky that her parents were letting her live with them so long as she paid rent, but she hated that she wasn't more independent.

Then again, how could she be? All things considered, Lexi was a liability by herself.

It was a warm autumn day in Texas. Temperatures didn't drop until December, so it would probably be in the high seventies for another few weeks. Lex had just turned twenty-four, but she still found herself in a state of childlike excitement when the leaves changed color.

She got into her battered Toyota, which was parked at the far end of the driveway under a giant oak tree older than she was. The air conditioner barely worked, so she kept her windows down as she drove to the hospital, which was only a few miles off the freeway. She never saw herself as a nine-to-five kind of girl, but that was exactly where she found herself.

Even the radio was fixated on the killings. She knew there had to be plenty of murders every day, and plenty of dead people to cover, but the whole state must've been fixated on this one crime spree. She settled for a country station, losing herself in heavy guitar melodies instead of morbid journalism.

She adjusted the watch on her wrist, a new gift from her aunt. The weight of it was comfortable, reassuring. Delaney had said a proper watch was a gateway to adulthood. Lexi wasn't sure if that was true, but she happily traded in her old G-Shock for the newer model.

Her head was pounding. She got headaches quite regularly, and it didn't help that it was a particularly bright day in Dallas. She fumbled for her sunglasses, but the familiar pair didn't do much to help her. She'd been having migraines since she was a little kid. It was a product of the same accident that landed Delaney's old boyfriend in jail.

She didn't want to think about that. There were parts of her childhood that were better left unacknowledged, left in a locked box and thoroughly compartmentalized.

Lexi took some aspirin when she got into the parking lot, slurping the capsules down with some lukewarm coffee. She hoped that it would help her focus because she couldn't afford to take a day off again this week.

She worked in the outpatient facility for the elderly at a desk she shared with a pudgy older woman named Dorothy.

A Tupperware of fresh chocolate chip cookies waited for Lexi with a birthday card resting on top of the lid. She felt the corners of her mouth lift as she recognized Dorothy's familiar flowery script.

"Thank you," Lex said, beaming at Dorothy. "I appreciate it."

"I'm sorry it was a bit late," Dorothy apologized.