Chapter 12
I texted the group chat, wondering which teacher they got. My lips curved into a wide smile as I got the news that they were placed in her class too. There were only about three to four teachers per grade, so it wasn’t an extremely small chance that we’d end up in the same class again.
Clutching the letter to my chest, I laid on my bed, staring at the ceiling.
The taped-on photo of my mother and father stared back at me.
I looked at it every night before going to sleep, feeling the comfort of my parents watching me.
As I stared at it now, they started to speak to me, telling me how proud they are of me.
That they loved me. They smiled, and I smiled back.
But my smile dropped when I remembered that it was only a picture.
Was I hallucinating? I placed the letter down next to me and stood up on the bed, taking a better look at the photo.
I snatched it off the ceiling and stared intently at it.
My parents walked closer to the camera. My hands started to shake.
I was freaked out but I couldn’t bring myself to look away.
“Hey, sweetheart,” my mother said in a sweet, motherly tone.
My lips quivered. “How… how is this possible?” I started uncontrollably crying, tears falling onto the photo. I should’ve been mad. I should’ve yelled. I should’ve done something. But I couldn’t. I was hearing my mother’s voice for the first time in three years.
“Don’t cry, sweet pea,” my father said. “We’re in a better place.”
“Better place?” I asked incredulously. “You abandoned me and Blake!”
“Honey, I know that us dying can seem like we abandoned you, but I promise this wasn’t what we wanted, either,” my mother said.
“What are you talking about?” I asked. “You didn’t die; you left and went no contact with us.”
My parents glared at each other, confusion visible on their faces. “We would never do that, honey. We were in a horrible car accident and we didn’t make it. Didn’t Blake tell you?”
My heart sinked.
This couldn’t be real. I was just going crazy. Yeah, that’s it. But just in case it was real…
“If you’re telling the truth, then why are we not in the will?” I asked, sobbing. “Why do we have no money?”
Our parents looked even more confused. “Honey, Blake inherited the money. He’s supposed to be taking care of you,” my mother said. “Is he not doing that?”
I shook my head, dropping the photo out of my hands. “No, this isn’t real. You aren’t real.”
“It is real,” my father said. “Your friend used a spell.”
Spell? The only one who uses spells is… Hero. Hero did this? Oh my God. That means this isn’t a hallucination. My parents are… dead. They’re really dead. And Blake knew. He lied to me. He had money all this time and kept it from me.
I couldn’t stand being in the house any longer. I rushed out, needing fresh air. I texted Hero, telling him to come to my house. I needed answers.
Mere seconds later, he appeared right in front of me, startling me. Teleportation spell, I assumed.
“Geez, don’t do that!” I scolded, wiping the tears from my eyes.
His smile faded into a concerned look. “What happened?” He sat down next to me on the front porch.
“When were you in my house?” I asked.
“What?” Hero was taken aback. He then realized what I meant and answered my question. “Yesterday.”
“Why?” I asked. “Why did you do that?”
“I thought you’d want to speak to them again,” he said, averting his gaze. “I’m sorry.”
“It’s not that,” I said quickly. “It’s just that I found out that they’re…dead. My brother lied to me.”
Dead. That word hurt coming out of my mouth. I never thought of the possibility that they were dead. I trusted Blake. I should’ve known he wasn’t to be trusted. God, I hate him.
Hero jerked his head, facing me again. “I’ll kill him.”
If it were any other day, I might’ve protested. But today I stayed silent, resting my head on his shoulder as I cried my heart out. Wrapping his arms around me, he placed his head on top of mine.
I felt as if he understood me more than anyone else in the world. More than Blake. More than Ayden. The worries inside me disappeared as his warm touch embraced me.
I needed to confront Blake. Knowing that my own brother inherited the money and acted like we were poor for the past three years made me so angry. But it didn’t make sense. Why would he do that to me? Why was he so harsh on me, making me work hard in school and telling me to steal from Ayden?
We never needed the money. We were never poor. As that thought sinked deeper, my blood boiled.
* * *
As Blake’s car approached the driveway, I shot up. “You can leave now if you want.”
Hero didn’t budge an inch, but his breath got heavier.
I stormed in front of the car before it could reach the garage. Blake honked, gesturing for me to move. But I didn’t. I stood my ground, waiting for him to get out of the car. Eventually he did.
“What’s your problem?” he asked, stepping out of the car.
I marched over to him and slammed my fists onto his chest, over and over again. “I hate you! I hate you!”
“Stop that.” He grabbed ahold of my arms. “What happened?”
“You liar!” I screamed. “Our parents are dead and you inherited the money! How dare you treat us like we were poor?!” The tears formed again, falling harder than ever before. I felt a sharp pain in my chest. A wave of energy washed out of me, and my vision faded to black.