The Sound of Forever

Chapter 20

Chapter Twenty

Julianna

It’s been almost two months, and I’m drowning.

The apartment is a mess—toys scattered across the living room, a half-eaten sandwich left on the coffee table, a pile of unfolded laundry mocking me from the corner. The mess in my apartment mirrors the storm in my head. Would it kill her to pick up after herself?

I’ve tried everything—reward charts, routines, heartfelt talks that end up sounding more like desperate pleas—but nothing gets through to Rayne. She barely looks at me, let alone talks. Her silence cuts deeper than any tantrum could. At least with tantrums, there’s a fight. There’s something to respond to. But this? This is a void, and I don’t know how to fill it.

I sit at the kitchen table, staring at the list I’ve scribbled in my planner. Get groceries. Schedule a parent-teacher conference. Call the pediatrician. Near the bottom, written in all caps, underlined, and circled three times: FIND HELP.

The words blur as I glance at Rayne’s backpack near the door. Its contents spilt onto the floor—a tangle of crayons, wrinkled worksheets, and a math test with a glaring red “F” at the top. My stomach knots, shame mingling with guilt. Another failure. Another reminder that I’m not enough—not for her, not for this.

“Rayne?” My voice wavers as I call out. She’s in her room, the door half-closed like always. I wait for a response I know won’t come. The chair scrapes against the floor as I stand, but I stop myself halfway to her door. Pushing won’t help. It hasn’t so far.

I return to the table, pick up my phone, and scroll through my contacts until I land on Oscar’s name. My thumb hovers over the call button, hesitating. We’ve spoken three times since Elena died. Each time, his response has been the same: “I don’t have time for this, Jules. Sorry you have to deal with it. There are always options, you know.”

But really, I’m out of options.

When the case workers visit, the apartment looks just clean enough for them to believe I’m doing great. They trust me with Rayne, and I’ve been trusting their trust, clinging to it like a raft. I could call them, tell them I can’t do it anymore. Let someone else—someone better—take her. Someone who knows what they’re doing. Because me? I’m just winging it, and the cracks are showing.

The phone rings twice before he answers. “Hey, Jules.” His voice is warm but distracted, like he’s already thinking about the next thing on his to-do list.

“Hi,” I say, forcing a smile into my tone. “Do you have a minute?”

“Sure. What’s up?”

I glance at the pile of laundry, at Rayne’s abandoned backpack, at the planner with its endless, unanswered demands. The words stick in my throat, but I force them out. “I don’t think I can do this, Oscar.”

There’s a pause, long enough for me to regret calling. Then he sighs. “Jules, what’s going on?”

“Rayne,” I say, the word rushing out like a dam breaking. “She’s not … she’s not okay. She barely talks to me. She’s struggling in school. And I …” My voice cracks, and I swallow hard. “I don’t know how to help her. I’ve tried everything. I think she needs . . .”

The sentence hangs in the air, unfinished.

“You think she needs what?” he asks softly.

I don’t answer. How can I admit I’m considering giving up on her?

“Jules,” he says, his tone gentle now, “you’ve been through a lot. Both of you have. It’s going to take time.”

“She doesn’t have time,” I snap, the words sharp and unfiltered. I wince at my own tone. “Sorry. I just . . . I feel like I’m failing her. And Elena. I don’t know what else to do.”

“Have you thought about getting some help?” he asks.

“That’s why I’m calling,” I say, the words tumbling out. “I thought maybe you could take her for a while. She might like you better. Listen to you more.”

“Jules,” he says, and I already know what’s coming. “I wish I could be there for you, but I’m traveling constantly right now. You know that. I’m barely home as it is.”

I close my eyes, the rejection hitting harder than it should. I should’ve known. I should’ve expected it. “Right. Of course. Sorry for asking.”

“Hey, don’t do that,” he says quickly. “You’re not alone in this, okay? Have you thought about heading to Luna Harbor? Nydia’s there. She might be able to help.”

Luna Harbor. The name stirs something in me—a vague memory of summers spent by the lake, of Nydia’s laughter carrying on the breeze. It feels like another lifetime. “I don’t know,” I say, unsure.

“Just think about it,” Oscar urges. “You’re doing the best you can, Jules. Don’t be so hard on yourself. If not, there are options, like just telling the social workers you can’t take care of her anymore.”

The words hit me like a slap. “She’s family and I’m not our father. I can’t just abandon her,” I try to keep my voice calm, but I can’t hide the edge. Sure I thought about it a little ago, but now . . . I can’t believe I even toyed with the idea of letting her go.

“I’m just saying, it’s an option,” he says.

“Sure,” I murmur, though it feels like I’m agreeing to something I can’t fathom. “Thanks, Oscar.”

We hang up, and I set the phone down, staring at it like it might offer more answers if I wait long enough. The apartment feels too quiet, too stifling. I glance at Rayne’s door again, and for a moment, I consider going in. But instead, I sit back at the table and pick up my pen, circling FIND HELP one more time.

Maybe Luna Harbor is the answer. Or maybe it’s just another way to fail.