Chapter Twenty: Ghosts and Long Ago Friends

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I'm back! Sorry I've been so absent on this story. It's been stressful, but I finally got to sit down the past two days and write this one out for you guys. Hope you like it!

As always, if you think it deserves it, please comment and vote and/or share so this book can get some more love.

Thanks for reading!

--VIVKELLER23

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Rain

He was angry with her. She could sense it even if he thought he was being clever in hiding it. For all the playful smiles he gave her, the ominous gleam in his green eyes wasn't fooling her. He was waging a silent war. Why? That was the million dollar question. But it wasn't going to be much of a war once he understood she wasn't going to fight.

They were in the middle of October now, closer to all things spooky, and Teagan hadn't missed a single one of Dr. Tilden's classes. To be fair, he'd only had two classes to attend since the day she met him on his soccer field, but for Tee, that was an amazing feat to accomplish.

Her father had asked her to return home after classes today instead of allowing her to go in to work like she usually did. It was all charity work. She wasn't getting paid for helping out the bruised and broken survivors she looked up to everyday. That was the only reason the great Randolf Sullivan didn't think much of it. In his eyes, he was simply entertaining his too sensitive daughter by allowing her to waste time on women who claimed to have experienced the same thing Rain had gone through.

Because rape was just too harsh a word to use when describing a man's unwanted attention on the weaker sex.

His logic amazed her.

It was hard to believe that the same man who ignored her every morning to hurry out to sell his luxurious property, was the same man who'd never missed any of her choir performances in high school. Every tryout for the school team, he'd been there, her greatest supporter with a proud smile on his face. Randolf Sullivan had been every girl's dream father while growing up, which was why it was so hard to reconcile herself to the notion that the man she'd known was gone for good.

It was an even harder pill to swallow when she knew part of the reason he was so changed was because of her.

She'd buried the father he'd been, ripping away the only love he'd ever had.

So if the man she now lived with was only a shell of what he once was, the blame was hers and hers alone.

Isa was chirpy this morning, humming along to some Michael Buble while she fixing Rain's favorite breakfast. Cheesy omelettes, fresh squeezed orange juice, and crispy hash browns. Her mouth watered even as her ears protested the ungodly sound coming from the plump woman's mouth.

Besides her beloved mother, Isa was the only cook Rain could stomach. Which was all the reason Rain needed to suck it up and listen to the off-key humming that filled the kitchen.

Rain sighed, taking in the unusually bright rays that spilled in through the large windows. The white walls weren't quite so upsetting in the light of a bright new day. But the walls weren't what brought an amused smile to her face this morning.

Isa's kitchen, because it was the only room in the entire estate that belonged solely to her, was a bustling mess. Empty pots filled the sink, orange peels littered the blue and white checkered floor, and the radio was set just a little too high for Isa to hear the timer going off.

Good Lord, please don't let that be the biscuits.

Isa's humming turned into a pitiful scream as Rain hurried to the oven to save what was left of the cook's efforts. Biscuits! Rain pulled the overheated tray out with what should have been edible bread to accompany breakfast.

Sparks FlyOnde as histórias ganham vida. Descobre agora