Chapter Fifty-Nine. Cat
CHAPTER FIFTY-NINE
CAT
The wind howls against the siding, rattling the model home like it might shake loose from its foundation.
Grains of ice scatter against the windows.
Night presses in from every side. I pace from the front window to the back, back again, peering through the blinds, wearing a path through the staging company’s rug. My pulse won’t settle.
Last night, after Chinese takeout, Olivia and I watched The Princess Bride on the sofa, a bowl of popcorn between us.
Within the first ten minutes, she was laughing.
When the popcorn ran out, Olivia moved the empty bowl to the side table.
She scooted over to fill the space, lifted the edge of the blanket so we could share.
The warmth of her beside me pinched my heart like a set of surgical tweezers.
I want, more than anything, to be the kind of mother she deserved.
Another gust slams the windows. I twitch open the blinds. The street outside is drowned in mist, thick as smoke, shifting in sheets across the half-paved road. Through it, a car glides into view, headlights cutting a pale tunnel before blinking off.
My breath sticks.
Rain lashes sideways behind the fogged glass. For a second, I think I see the driver’s side door swing open, but the haze closes over it again. When there is another break in the rain, the door is closed, and no one is in the road.
I retreat to the kitchen, pacing in front of the island, checking my phone. Every muscle in my body feels braced, and I’m so tired, like all my life I’ve been waiting for the inevitable.
Then I hear the sound of wet boots on the porch.