Angelica "Freak Two" Munson

Chapter 27

"So we've narrowed it down to Farland, Statesville, and Birdare County." Wayne circles the small towns on the faded map spread across the table. His finger lingers on the ink like he's willing it to give up a secret. "Those are the closest stops heading south."

"Do we know anything about them?" Eddie asks, rubbing his temples. His voice is hoarse, drained. He hasn't slept since Angie left.

"Well, I've been to—"

The doorbell chimes. 

A sharp, grating sound that echoes through the trailer like a bad omen.

Wayne and Eddie lock eyes. 

Hope flickers there—thin, desperate. 

Could it be her? 

Could Angie have come home?

Eddie doesn't wait. 

He bolts for the door, his heart hammering so hard it hurts. 

He yanks it open, Wayne right behind him.

When he sees who's standing on the porch, the breath leaves his lungs in a groan.

"You've got to be kidding me," he mutters. "Why the hell are you back here, Karen?"

His mother—pale, twitchy, wearing too much perfume to mask the stench of old cigarettes—forces a smile. 

"Because you two kept hanging up on me," she says sweetly, her tone grating. "So I figured it'd be easier if I came in person."

"Well, it's not appreciated," Eddie snaps, already slamming the door. 

She wedges her foot in before it shuts.

"Eddie, that's no way to treat your mother."

He laughs bitterly. "You are not my mother. You're just the woman who birthed me."

"Eddie!" Karen clutches her chest like she's offended. "Wayne, are you going to let him talk to me like that?"

Wayne crosses his arms. "Honestly? Yeah. I mean, the boy's got a point. You were an absolute shit mother, and they've got every right to be mad."

Karen's eyes narrow. "That's why I'm here. I'm here to make amends."

Wayne scoffs. "It's been fourteen years, Karen. Little late for that."

"Well, I can't if you don't quit being so stubborn and just let me in."

"No," Eddie says, his voice sharp but tired. "I'm not letting you in. I was willing to talk before, but now? No. I've been reminded just how much trouble you've caused all of us."

Karen's smile fades. "Fine. If you won't talk to me, I'll talk to Angie."

"You won't," Wayne says firmly.

"Why not? She's my daughter."

"First of all—no," Wayne retorts. "Second, she's not here."

Karen blinks. "What do you mean, she's not here?"

"We don't know where she is," Wayne admits, jaw tight.

"You don't know?" Karen laughs, sharp and cruel. "So you lost her?"

Eddie opens his mouth to speak, but she barrels on, her words like knives.

"It's probably because you never listened to her. God, I can't imagine how alone she must've felt in a house full of selfish men."

"That's not—"

"I'm sure she's fine," Karen interrupts, waving her hand dismissively. "She's probably having the time of her life without you two. Honestly, don't plan on her coming back."