I was so surprised to hear Cole again that I nearly fell out of my bed.
“Cole,” a girl responded, her voice smoky. “You said you were going to call me.”
I glanced around the room, looking for the source of the voices. There were three windows, and I realized why Katherine had picked this room for her art studio. It gave her a handful of different views to paint. The window on the front side of the house was pushed open.
“Yeah,” Cole said. “Something came up. Sorry.”
Pushing back the curtain, I looked down and saw Cole standing on the front porch. The front door was still open, and the light from inside poured into the night, outlining his body in a yellow glow.
“Are we still on for tonight?” asked Erin. She was standing a few steps down, and with her back to me, all I could see were long legs and a high ponytail.
Cole paused. “It’s late.”
Erin crossed her arms. “Fine, but no excuses tomorrow. You can’t keep bailing on me. I miss you.”
“Okay.”
“You promise?” she asked. Cole nodded his head. “Good. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
Cole stood on the porch and watched as Erin walked to her car. When the headlights disappeared down the dark driveway, I expected Cole to go back inside. Instead, he stepped off the porch and made his way across the front walk. He was heading for what looked like a shed.
When he unlatched the lock and pulled back the double doors, I realized that it was a second garage. After flipping on a light switch, he shut the doors. I waited for a few minutes, but he didn’t come back out. Finally I gave up and crawled into bed, but I couldn’t stop wondering. What the heck was Cole doing out there?
Chapter 3
I was in the car with my family. My dad and mom were in the front seat, and Lucy was sitting next to me in the back. We were sharing a set of headphones and jamming out to one of our favorite songs. When it came to an end, I smiled and looked out the window. It was one of those crisp, sunny spring days that let you know that winter was almost over. A small green haze that was almost invisible surrounded the tree branches as new buds started to push forth.
I looked down in surprise as my seat belt suddenly slid off. “What the…?” I muttered to myself and clicked it back in. A sinking feeling formed in my stomach when the buckle clicked undone again. Before I could push it back in, an invisible force yanked me from the car.
Now I was standing on the concrete. The trees on both sides of the road had shriveled up, and the sky darkened to an ominous gray. Our car sped by, and I caught a glimpse of Lucy staring out the back window at me.
“Wait, stop!” I cried and started to sprint down the street.
But the car didn’t stop. I watched in horror as a mile down the road the pavement started to crumble apart. When the road split in two, our car drove right off the edge and the earth swallowed my family up.
Panting, I sat straight up in bed with a thick layer of sweat covering my body. As my vision adjusted to the dark, dread built up inside me at the sight of unfamiliar surroundings. I kicked the covers off and stepped onto the cold, hard floor. For a moment, I was confused because my room didn’t have a wooden floor. Where was the carpet?
I searched in the dark for the light switch, and when I flipped it on, the mural on the walls lit up around me. The shock of reality hit me so hard that my knees buckled and I crumbled to the ground in a heap. I wasn’t at home in New York. I was in Colorado.
It was a dream. I had only been dreaming about the accident.
When it happened, I wasn’t with them. Instead, I had been lying on the couch, sick with the flu. I remember being tucked into a cocoon of blankets, trying to sleep away the shivers. As the morning slipped by, I drifted in and out of consciousness, and my family must have disappeared from existence sometime then.
At some point, the phone started ringing, but I felt too awful to answer. It continued to ring all afternoon long, until finally there was a knock on the front door and I was forced to get up. When the police officer told me what had happened to my family, my stomach reacted before I could process anything. I bent over, hands to my knees, and emptied onto the floor the small amount of hot chocolate I’d been able to sip that morning.
I didn’t understand how Lucy could be gone. She had always gone a step beyond being an older sister. The night before, when I came down with the flu, she’d held my hair and rubbed soothing circles across my back as I cried into the toilet. And my mother—she had been the strongest woman I knew. At the time, it didn’t make sense that she was dead.