Chapter Thirty-Two
Iknow watching votes being updated is boring, but why do you look like you’re having the worst night of your life?” I ask Jonathan. We’re hiding in the theatre room, watching the New York State special election creeping toward some sort of result.
The house is filled with what feels like half of Hollis.
Mom wanted to rent out the Rileys’ barn again, but my father reminded her he’s running for district attorney, not mayor.
My parents said I could invite friends over, but it’s a school night, and no one was that excited to stay up late with a house full of adults.
Gavin came home. With a girl. We were all too busy with last-minute logistics to make a big deal over it.
I’m sure he planned it that way. I think her name is Heather.
Or Heaven. I feel horrible that I don’t remember.
But it’s so loud in the house—I couldn’t hear her very well.
She has a very quiet voice. She seems on the shy side—first impression anyway.
Makes me worried for her, dating Gavin. He needs someone to put him in his place. Constantly.
Jonathan and Collin are the only ones who showed. Jonathan seeks any reason to be out of his house lately. It helps that it’s swim season, and he’s in the pool, gym or at meets much of the time. The upcoming month is big for him as they try to qualify for the state championship.
He’s never worked for his dad during swimming season.
It’s too important for even Hal to mess with, especially after everything he’s invested to get his son to this level.
Which is a relief beyond the obvious because Reeves Construction has been renovating the Holisters’ house for the past couple of weeks.
I don’t know if the family had to move out while it’s being worked on, but I’m sure Livvy would find any reason to be there if Jonathan and Collin were on-site.
Collin is still working for Hal. He goes wherever he’s assigned.
He hasn’t mentioned being at Livvy’s, thankfully.
Sometimes, he knows when to keep his mouth shut.
“Is your brother here with a girl?” Collin asks, balancing a stack of plates filled with hors d’oeuvres and canapés.
“Did you leave enough for everyone else?” I ask, relieving him of the top plates before they fall. “I think he did it to get out of not having to introduce her at an awkward family dinner.”
“What does that mean?” Collin asks.
“It’s what my parents do as a form of torture. Make us invite whoever we’re dating to dinner that’s really an interrogation of worthiness and intentions.”
“I haven’t been invited to dinner,” Jonathan says. I didn’t realize he was paying attention. He’s been so distant most of the night.
“Thank god!” Then I realize he looks disappointed. “It’s a good thing. I promise you. Besides, they already know you, so… no night of sweating over a five-course meal to gain parental approval.”
This doesn’t make him feel better.
“Do you want to have dinner with my parents?” I ask delicately, not sure how to erase the disappointment deeply etched between his brows.
“I’ll come too!” Collin adds.
“You’re not dating her,” Jonathan says a little too firmly, stilling us both. He lets out a breath. “You probably should though. They don’t want me at their dinner table.”
Where is this coming from? I shoot Collin a look filled with concern. He shakes his head, not understanding it either.
“What’s going on?” he asks Jonathan. “You’re being extra miserable. Did something happen?”
Jonathan looks between us and finally caves. “I’m under review with the swim committee.”
“For what?” Collin asks, not putting it together.
Jonathan blows out a breath. “For being arrested.”
“He didn’t press charges!” I exclaim, infuriated on his behalf.
“They don’t want the publicity attached to Penn State.”
Collin leans against the back of the front row of recliners. “What are they going to do?”
“Coach promised he’d sort it out. But he said that I can’t get into any more trouble. No fights. Nothing with my father. I have to basically be a saint until I leave for school.”
“Are you worried?” I ask, not understanding why he’s so stressed. Unless there’s something going on with Hal I don’t know about. And what does this have to do with having dinner with my parents?
He releases a humorless laugh. Collin groans and runs his fingers through his hair.
“What am I missing?” I ask, looking between them. They’re both worried now. “You’re hardly around your dad, right? And can you not get into a fight?”
Their eyes are on me, like I’m asking the impossible.
“What are you guys doing in here? They just called the election,” Gavin announces, sticking his head into the room.
I jump up and rush to the door, leaving Collin and Jonathan to trail after us.
I lose them when Gavin and I weave through the maze of guests to reach my parents at the front of the room, standing on a small platform that allows us to be seen by everyone all the way through to the kitchen—my mother’s insistence.
Mom is glowing with pride. She opens her arms to hug me when we join her and Dad on the tiny stage. I smile and squeeze her back. It’s nice to see her so happy. Both of them.
Dad holds up a glass of champagne. A server hands Gavin and me a glass as well, although ours are half filled with something obviously non-alcoholic.
My dad just got elected district attorney for the county; providing his minor children with alcohol would not go over well, especially with reporters in the crowd.
I’m temporarily blinded by a flash when my father begins his speech.
I didn’t need to secure my smile in place; it’s natural tonight.
I’m so proud of my dad. Both of my parents.
They worked hard to make this happen. And despite my griping, I was able to be a part of it. It’s a big moment for our family.
“Thank you. Thank you.” The applause and cheers subside. “Thank you all for being here tonight.”
My eyes drift over the crowd. There are people everywhere in the front room and all the way into the kitchen. I smile brightly at Magda, holding her granddaughter on her hip. She waves to me. She honestly should be up here with us.
“When I decided to run for district attorney, I knew it would be received with mixed emotions. Some saw it as an opportunity to enforce justice. Others saw it as a betrayal to the cause I’ve spent my entire life upholding.”
It’s not hard to spot Shamus and Kenneth with Jocelyn. Their smiles aren’t as bright as the rest of the room’s. They’re not doing a very good job at being clutch purses. I don’t blame them. I wouldn’t want to lose my dad to the other side of the courtroom either.
“But you all supported me. And that’s what this town—correction, this county is all about.
Looking out for each other. Wanting the best for our neighbors even if we don’t agree with their point of view.
I appreciate everyone’s support. You’re here because you believe in me even if you don’t believe in what I’m doing. ”
I’m impressed by how many faces I know.
In the far back, near the kitchen entrance, there’s a face I never expected to see here. Standing next to Terrence Winston because they both paid for this result. To get my dad elected.
I fight to maintain my smile.
“I promise I will follow my conscience. Uphold the law. And it’s my intention to represent an equitable justice system within this county.”
Why would he support the man who’s defended his son for years in his bid to become the newly elected district attorney?
Everyone holds up their glasses. I raise mine, still focused on Hal Reeves. He tips his in the air as if toasting me directly.
Does he expect my dad to look the other way? Or maybe he’s expecting me to as well.
I pull my gaze away from him in search of Jonathan. My smile doesn’t fool him. He knows me. As soon as he looks into my eyes, he detects something’s wrong.
Hal doesn’t know my father. And he doesn’t know me.
There are too many thoughts in my head.
I replaced the snowflakes with pink and red heart lights. They’re not what’s keeping me up. They’re not helping either.
I roll off my bed and onto the floor, searching for the plug behind my headboard. I unplug something. Not the string lights. I search for the other plug and finally yank it out.
“Sadie?”
I nearly hit my head, rolling out from under my bed.
“Gavin! Why are you in my room?”
“Why are you under your bed?” His voice went from urgent to confused.
I kneel, resting my arms on the mattress. “What do you want?” I huff, blowing stray strands out of my face.
“The Holisters’ house is on fire.”
I jump to my feet. “Are you kidding?”
He doesn’t stick around to convince me. He tosses my jacket at me and leaves.
“Mom and Dad are already there,” he calls behind him as I chase him down the stairs.
“Where’s… your girlfriend?” I ask, shoving my arms in my coat and tripping to put boots on my feet when we reach the kitchen. I figured she’d be as curious as we are even if she doesn’t know our neighbors.
“Sent her home on the train after the party.”
I stare at him. “Seriously?”
He gives a one-shouldered shrug and holds the door open.
“How are we related?” I ask, exiting the house into the freezing night. The sub-zero temperature captures my breath as soon as I inhale. Flurries drift from the cloudy sky, which is darker than usual. Even at two in the morning.
Smoke.
Billows of dark, swirling smoke can be seen over the tops of the houses before we reach the sidewalk. The air smells of burnt rubber. And the flames light up the street as we run toward the burning house.
Flashing red lights create abstract shadows when the fire trucks come to a stop in the middle of the street. The entire neighborhood has shown up for this. Police officers direct everyone to stand on the other side of the street.
My hand cups my mouth, not just to block out the smoke and the acrid smell, but because I cannot believe that Livvy’s house is completely ablaze. Wafts of heat burst from the inferno. Glass shatters. And boards crack and collapse.
We find my parents talking to one of the police officers.
I stand a distance away. But Gavin goes over because suddenly, he decides to be an adult.
Our neighbors are huddled in clusters with arms around each other, their faces aghast. I can see the horror in their eyes, imagining this happening to one of their homes.
Past the crowd, seated on the curb, alone, is Livvy. I search for her parents, but I can’t find them anywhere. Not talking to a firefighter or a police officer. Not among the horrified faces. And nowhere near their distraught daughter.
I approach her with care. She’s bent over, her face buried in her folded arms. Her body shakes with each sob. Despite the tension that’s evolved between us for what feels like our entire lives, I can’t leave her alone. Not like this.
When I get closer, I realize she’s not crying. She’s laughing—hysterically.
“Livvy?”
She raises her head; tears streak smoke-covered cheeks. The laughter trickles. “What do you want?”
“Are you okay?” I cringe at my own words. Dumb question.
She doesn’t look okay. Her hair is wild, dark blond waves around her head. When did she cut her hair? She’s in pajama pants, a sweatshirt sliding off her shoulders with only a tank top beneath. Her feet are bare and covered in soot. She must be freezing. Except she’s not even shivering.
“Why do you care?” Her words are as slicing as barbed wire.
Coming over here was a mistake even if I knew I had to try. “I just want to help.”
“It’s too late for you to give a shit about me, Sadie Prescott. Leave me the fuck alone,” Livvy snarls, like I just offered her a bag of garbage.
“Miss?” a police officer approaches us. “I understand you live here?”
“Not anymore,” Livvy says, her throat crackling with laughter.
The police officer looks to me. “And you are?”
“No one,” Livvy says before I can answer. “No one at all.”
“Where are your parents, miss?”
“Paris,” Livvy answers dully.
A hand rests on my shoulder. I turn to find my mother. “Why don’t you go home? I’ll make sure she’s okay.”
Livvy is on her feet. “I don’t need any of you!
I’ve lived three houses down from you my entire life.
You don’t get to throw on the Prescotts to the rescue cape now, like you suddenly give a fuck!
Nothing’s changed. My parents aren’t home.
They’re never home. And you’ve never opened your door to me.
Or made sure I was okay. Not until now, when everyone’s watching.
Screw you! I don’t need anything from your fucking family! ”
A car pulls up behind the police tape.
The police officer attempts to ask her more questions. “My friend is here.” She flips him the middle finger as she strides by. “Good luck finding my parents.”
Oren rolls down the driver’s-side window. A shiver runs through me.
“C’mon,” Mom coaxes with an arm around my shoulders.
“Ma’am, could I talk to you a moment?” the officer asks.
I keep walking toward Gavin while Mom stays behind to speak with him. There’s a red pickup behind him with Reeves Construction written on the side. I stand next to Gavin and cross my arms, the arctic temperatures encroaching on me now that I’m further away from the house.
“I don’t know, Hal. No one was supposed to be home.”
I freeze when I overhear the driver’s deep voice, focusing all of my attention on the conversation behind me and not the chaos surrounding us.
“Of course I looked. There’s no footage.
The cameras were turned off earlier tonight.
” After a moment. “Not by any of my men. They don’t know how.
” I swear I can hear Hal’s rage from here.
“I got it. I know what’s at stake, but I can’t see how we’re at fault. ”
Jonathan was cleared from hurting that guy from Greenfield a few months ago because of the cameras Hal uses on his work sites.
If the cameras were turned off inside the Holisters’ home before the fire…
“What are you thinking?” Gavin asks. “Whatever it is, stop. I can tell you’re about to do something stupid.”
I spin around and run back to our house.
“I knew it!” Gavin says, running after me.