Chapter Eighteen
Sutton
I wake up in the middle of the night with a start, becoming aware in an instant, certain that I’m alone in the house. My heart’s made of lead while I check the bathroom, the kitchen, even the goddamn front porch, as if she might be swinging with her toes on the scarred wooden boards. Even the crickets are quiet at this hour. The world feels ungodly silent. I step out into the grass and look up, wearing jeans and nothing else. The dark sky leans down on me, as if filled with water, heavy and threatening.
When I go back inside I find my phone on the breakfast table, set neatly beside my wallet, and a note written on a Post-it. I took the money you promised. It continues on the back. Left some for Uber. I stare at the loops as if her handwriting can somehow tell me
