Chapter 52
Lexi doesn’t leave her room for the rest of the morning and the early afternoon.
I check on her a few times. I knock on the door, and when she snaps at me to go away, I feel better.
If she is angry at me, that’s a healthier emotion than feeling sad over that loser who she never should’ve been dating in the first place.
He was never good enough for her. She’s an honor student taking four AP classes!
As far as I can tell, he barely even bothered to go to class at all, and I overheard him mocking her for wanting to stay in to study.
Good riddance.
I intermittently check the news for updates on Zane.
The website for the Hingham Household is still just porn, but there are plenty of other news articles about the accident.
All the articles I find confirm the story I heard from Izzy.
They don’t mention that Zane had been called to the principal’s office for a disciplinary issue, but I imagine that’s something they’re trying to keep quiet.
The articles also confirm that he is very much alive, although his injuries do sound serious. One of them mentions a broken neck and says that he has been rushed to emergency surgery.
At about two o’clock, I head upstairs to check on my girls.
I find Izzy studying in her bedroom. She is sitting cross-legged on her bed with a pencil in her mouth. It’s actually something that Cooper does, and I find it weirdly endearing that she has picked up this habit from him, either from environment or genetics.
“Izzy,” I say. “I have to run an errand. I’ll be back in about two hours.”
“Okay,” she says without looking up.
“Could you keep an eye on your sister for me?”
“Sure, Mom.”
“Thanks, sweetie. You’re the best.”
Izzy has always been the easier child. I fixed her little problem, and she was grateful. She didn’t run to her bedroom and sob for hours because Coach Pike got arrested.
I stop at Lexi’s door next. She still has her door closed, and I knock gently. She doesn’t answer, so I knock again.
“Go away,” Lexi mumbles. It sounds like her face is stuffed into a bunch of pillows, which it may very well be.
“I’m going out for a bit,” I say. “I just wanted to let you know.”
“Okay,” she says through the door. “Try not to kill anyone.”
I stifle a smile. She has no idea.
There is one very big problem I need to fix, and after I do that, maybe I’ll be able to sleep through the night again. After nearly half a century of life, I’ve realized that the only person who is truly looking out for my best interests is myself.