Chapter Fourteen
My phone rang early on Saturday. For a few seconds, I just stared at it.
Higginham Memorial’s caller ID blinked across the screen.
My stomach twisted, half fear, half dread.
There was no reason for the hospital to be calling me unless it was bad news and I was not in the headspace to deal with bad news.
When I finally got enough nerves to answer, my voice came out smaller than I wanted. “Hello?”
There was a pause, and then, “Cadence?”
I froze. That voice. Rough and low, but clear.
“Lindie? Are you okay?”
“Yeah, I’m fine.”
I frowned and looked down at the phone wondering if this was some kind of prank. Lindie never called me. At least not anymore since she wasn’t acting as my manager now. For a moment, I couldn’t speak. Didn’t even know what to say.
“Can you come by,” she asked. Something in her tone made it impossible to say no. This was the first thing she’d actively asked of me.
“Yeah,” I whispered. “I’ll be there.”
I couldn’t recall much of anything after that. The reason behind her call swallowed every other thought I had. Before I knew it, I was at the hospital parking lot. I grabbed my jacket from the passenger seat and sat there for a moment, fingers tight on the steering wheel.
It took all of my nerves to climb out of my car and head inside. The nurses at the desk smiled at me when they saw me. I numbly signed in and then headed directly for Lindie’s room.
She was already on her couch, sitting straight, flipping slowly through a magazine.
“You’re here,” she said, setting the magazine aside.
“You asked,” I said simply.
She hummed in acknowledgement and motioned for me to sit. For a while, the only sound was the muted chatter from the hallway. Then Lindie broke the silence. “You look tired.”
What a loaded thing to say.
I gave her a half-smile. “It’s been tough lately.” I left it at that. Lindie knew absolutely nothing about what I’d been going through since she’d put me in the hospital. I refused to tell her and frankly, at this point, she had no right to know.
Her eyes flicked to mine. “It’s always tough with you.”
I didn’t rise to the jab. “You said you wanted to talk?”
Her lips pressed together, the faintest trace of tension in her jaw. “I did. I’ve been thinking about things. About us. I’ll be released soon.”
I drew in a breath and let it out slowly. So this was where we were going. I had figured it was time for this conversation. We had a lot to figure out before she was released. “Dr. Livingston told me last time I was here.”
“They want to make sure the medication keeps working outside the facility. Some kind of monitored transition program.” She sighed. “It’s strange. I’ve been here long enough that it almost feels like home.”
The word home landed between us, heavy and loaded.
I folded my hands together in my lap, trying to hide the nerves. “I guess it’s time we talked about it.”
Lindie’s gaze sharpened slightly. “About me coming home?”
I took a slow breath, preparing myself. I needed to do this. I had to.
“No,” I said. “About what happens when you leave.”
She tilted her head, wary now. “What do you mean?”
“I mean...” I hesitated, my heart thudding faster. “You’re going to need a plan. A place to stay. Something to do. There is no home for you to come back to anymore.”
Her brows pulled together, faint confusion flickering in her expression. “What?”
“The house is gone,” I said quietly. “It was sold after...after everything happened.”
For a heartbeat, she just stared at me. Then her voice sharpened. Not angry, but clipped. “Sold? What do you mean sold? That was my house.”
“It was ours,” I corrected softly. “But after everything that happened, that wasn’t a home anymore. I couldn’t stay there. So I sold it.”
“You sold my—” She stopped herself mid-sentence, pressing her lips together. I could see the realization dawning, the understanding that legally, I could do exactly that.
“I didn’t take anything from you,” I continued carefully. “Your things are still in storage. I’ve been keeping them safe. When you find a place, you can have them.”
Lindie’s eyes narrowed. “So where have you been living? With him? Your father?”
“No,” I said, feeling steady now. “With me. In my own house.”
That made her blink. “Your...what?”
“I’m emancipated,” I said, the words coming out stronger than I expected. “I have my own place. My own bills. My own life. It all belongs to me now.”
The silence that followed was sharp, nearly suffocating.
She looked at me like she was trying to reconcile the version of me in her memory with the one sitting in front of her now. I was no longer that girl she could manipulate.
Finally, she exhaled. “You really think you can handle that? Living alone? Taking care of yourself?”
“I already am,” I said quietly. “I’ve been doing it for a while now. I have help when I need it. I’m okay.”
Lindie’s tone stayed cool, but there was something behind it that wasn’t cruelty. Just shock. “You went and made yourself an adult without me.”
“I had to,” I said, the tremor in my voice betraying how hard this was.
Her gaze drifted toward the window, the faint reflection of her face caught in the glass. “So that’s it? I get out and what? You just hand me a box of my things and wish me luck?”
“No,” I said, leaning forward slightly. “I’ll help you find a place to live. And I saved a chunk of the profits from selling the house. I got a smaller one, so I was able to put money aside for you. It’ll be enough to be a downpayment for yours, as long as you buy within your means.”
She snorted. “Buy within my means, huh.”
I chose to ignore her and continued. “I never planned to leave you out in the cold. It’s just that I can’t let you live with me.
That’s the line I draw. I hired a lawyer for you, he’s been keeping an eye on all your assets.
I told him I wanted nothing to do with it, and it’s all set up for you to take full ownership once you’re released and it’s decided I no longer need to act as your guardian. ”
Her lips pressed into a thin line. “You don’t want anything to do with me.”
“It’s not about wanting,” I said. “It’s about what’s right. After everything that happened, we both deserve a fresh start. Away from each other.”
Lindie stared at me for a long time. I forced myself to hold her gaze even though my palms were slick against my knees.
“You’ve changed,” she said finally.
“Yeah,” I whispered, not sure what else to say about that.
She tilted her head, studying me in a way that made me feel twelve again. But this time, I didn’t shrink under it. “And what happens if I fail?”
“Then you try again,” I said. “You’ve done worse and survived it. You can do this too.”
Her jaw worked, then loosened. “You really are your father’s daughter,” she said quietly. “Stubborn as hell.”
Usually her words would have hurt me, but this time, I found that I actually didn’t mind.
Since Dad had been around, I was able to appreciate the ways we were the same.
Yes, in our looks, but also our personalities.
How we both were awkward with each other but kept trying, refusing to give up on each other.
And that was everything for me.
Lindie noticed that her words didn’t affect me like they had in the past. The air between us settled, not quite peaceful but no longer hostile.
Finally, Lindie said, “I’ll talk to Dr. Livingston about those programs she mentioned. There’s a couple that helps people who need to transition into a new life.”
Relief trickled through me, slow and shaky. “That’s a good choice. And I’ll help however I can.”
Her voice softened, just barely. “You really mean that?”
“I do,” I said. “But only if you let me help you the right way. You get to build your own life this time, Lindie. Not take over mine.”
She didn’t argue, didn’t fight. Only nodded like she understood. And somehow, that felt harder to face than the shouting ever had been. I knew that Lindie, the one with sharp words. But this one, I wasn’t so sure what to do with her.
When I stood to leave, my knees felt weak from the effort of holding myself upright through the whole conversation.
As I reached the door, Lindie said my name. I looked back, expecting the sting that always came after moments like this.
Instead, she just said, “You did good, Cadence.”
My throat tightened. “Thanks,” I managed, and slipped out into the hall before she could see me shake.
The hallway lights buzzed faintly above me. My reflection in the window didn’t look small anymore—it looked steady, older somehow.
I’d done it. I’d faced Lindie.
And for the first time, I hadn’t felt powerless.