Finding Ford

chapter twenty one

"My dearest love, I'm not done yet." -Hozier, In The Woods Somewhere

JAS DOESN'T COME TO SCHOOL the next day.

I try to text her, only to realize by second period that she's completely ignoring me. There's not any reason for her not to reply to my texts and calls; she's always on her phone. I decide not to get caught up on it. After all, I have other things to worry about today: I'm visiting Molly.

As I drive over to the Wilson's home, I feel my heart hammer against my chest. I have a feeling the minute I see Molly and Mr. Wilson, all I'll want to do would be to reassure them and blurt out Ford's secret. But I can't. The grip I have on my steering wheel tightens. It's not fair. Their family shouldn't be going through something like this.

I park my car in the driveway, getting out on shaky feet. I let out a deep breath to calm myself. No one's in danger. I'm not in danger. I repeated that to myself like a mantra.

I only have to knock once before the door is swung open. I come face to face with Mr. Wilson, not for the first time, but every time I do it's just as uncomfortable as the first time. Mr. Wilson doesn't bother to greet me, just grunts and opens the door up a little more, letting me know I come back. I give him a small attempt of a smile, which he doesn't both returning, so the attempt drops and I timidly make my way into the home.

Molly is sitting on the couch, her gaze glues to the wall in front of her, unfocused. She looks battered and beaten, her leg in a cast and multiple bruises scattered across her limbs. She barely acknowledges me as I enter the room, careful footsteps echoing off the thin walls off the room as I attempt not to trip over the usual clutter of the room.

"Molly?" I whisper, trying to catch her attention. Molly barely moves from her place, but I continue talking. "Hey. How are you feeling?"

Molly doesn't answer. I creep closer, hesitantly taking a seat beside her. I wait for Molly to speak, not saying another word. Just when I think it's hopeless, Molly whispers, "I could have died."

"I'm sorry."

Molly shakes her head. "I just want to know. I want to know who killed my mom, if my brother is dead and alive, and who tried to kill me. I want to know what my family did so wrong to bring this upon themselves."

Me too. You have no idea, Molly.

"I'm scared who they're going to go after next," Molly continues. her voice flat. She still hasn't turned to look at me ever since I've entered the room "My dad maybe? Though they don't have to, he's already dead inside." Molly lets out a shuddering breath.

"I'm sorry, Molly. You and your family don't deserve this."

"But somehow it still happens, doesn't it?" Molly finally looks at me. Her grey eyes scare me when a bitter laugh rips out of her throat. "Thanks for coming to visit, Ava. As you can see, I'm not exactly myself right now. I'd like to be alone. Why don't you come back later?"

I swallow roughly. "Of course, Molly." I tenderly lift myself off the couch, giving Molly one last glance, but she's already broken the small eye contact she's made with me. "Bye."

Molly doesn't reply.

I walk past Mr. Wilson, who is leaned against the doorway, eyes focused on his daughter.

I've never met a more broken family.

I make my way out of the house trying my best not to look back. When the door finally closes behind me, I can't help but let out a huge sigh of relief. I throw my head back, burying my hands in my blonde hair. Good God.