She cast her eyes down to the floor. “The fireworks scared me and Mother told me to go inside and wait until they are over.”

“Then go up to your room.”

She hesitated, because going to the foot of the stairs would bring her closer to him, but she relented and went up the stairs.

His hand, which was pressed against my chest, gradually relaxed.

“Did she see us?” I asked.

“She better not have.”

It was the first time I had seen him truly angry and I was a little fearful for myself.

“You should go. I’ll send for you when they’re gone.”

I wanted to set his mind at ease and put my hand on his cheek. “Do you promise?”

He smiled. “We leave a key under the table on the porch. I’ll place an order and you can use the key to let yourself in.” He pulled me closer. “But I warn you; only use the key if you’re ready,” he said, and kissed me, again.

“For what?” I asked.

He chuckled. “I need to get back to the guests.”

He kissed me one last time before going back through the living room and towards the kitchen to rejoin the party.

I went out the front door, past the empty tables and chairs, and grabbed the bike from the bushes.

I was shaking the whole ride back to town. When I arrived at the house, the light in the parlor was on. I found Father sitting in the chair by the fireplace. There was a half-full decanter on the table beside him and a glass in his hand.

“Angel! How was the picnic?” His words were slurred and the air stank of liquor.

I’ve never seen him like that.

I told him it was fine and that I had talked up the pharmacy. I asked him how business had been. He said it was fine, making liars of us both.

“I’m going to bed,” I told him.

“Good night,” he drunkenly mumbled.

I dressed for bed, but there is no way I can sleep. My heart is still pounding. My stomach is turning. I thought I was tired but I’m not, so I decided to pour out these words. But now, it’s really late and I’m going to try to sleep and dream of what is to come.

Good night.

18

I groan and stretch out, pressing my feet against the opposite armrest.

It was another night on the couch, but if I’m being honest, it may have been the best night of sleep I’ve had in this house.

Of course, the image of Nicole had been disturbing, but I think my body decided that I was getting sleep, no matter what.

I feel good. Not great, but better than I’ve felt in a while and I keep playing last night over in my mind, conveniently leaving out the part about going to bed upstairs.