Do we truly know those we consider as our family?
This is the last year before the beginning of the rest of Cara and Mia lives!
Mia Carter still has one more year to spend on Angel Island before leaving, with her best friend, for Montreal to pursue...
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Chapter 19 - It's Better Not to Play with Fire
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Mia - Sunday, 5:00 PM
I must have fallen asleep between two movies because I open my eyes to realize that it's already late. I reach out for Austin, but the spot next to me in bed is empty. I feel much better after sleeping so much and get up to go to the kitchen. I prepare a bowl of cereal, and my father joins me. He brushes his hand against my cheek.
"You don't have a fever anymore, that's something." I smile at him as he sits down on the chair in front of me. "Austin isn't here anymore?"
"No, he left just 20 minutes ago. He mentioned a family emergency. I don't think things are going well with his parents." I hope he's okay. I've seen him come back from his house with marks and bruises, and although he doesn't talk about it much, I'm not fooled. I lower my gaze into my cereal bowl.
"Mia?"
"Yes, Dad?"
"You would tell me if you were in danger, right? You know I'll always be there for you, sweetheart." I feel my throat tighten, and a wave of guilt washes over me. I put them through so much. I can't imagine the worry they must feel and the state they would be in if I were to disappear. In fact, that's what might happen if the FBI doesn't help me.
I feel nauseous as I lie to my father, "I know, Dad, but everything is fine. I just want to find Cara." "Me too, sweetheart, me too..." He leaves the room after one last affectionate gesture, and I find myself alone in the middle of an empty kitchen. I go back up to my room and throw myself onto my bed. I open my phone and look for a non-existent message from Austin. He must be busy with his parents. I open my photo app and immerse myself in the pictures taken last year by our group of friends, smiling on the beach, around a campfire, or during a pajama party. I sigh and place the phone next to me. Suddenly, it starts ringing, and I startle as I grab it. It's an unfamiliar number, but not anonymous. I answer.
"Mia?" I remain silent for a few seconds, and I feel the blood drain from my cheeks. I can't find the words, and the only sound that escapes my throat is hoarse. "Cara? Is that you?"
Labored breathing answers me, and I believe Cara is crying on the other end of the phone. "Mia! Mia! MIA! I'm still on -- --------------------"
The conversation abruptly cuts off, and my hands tremble as I pick up the phone that had fallen onto my lap. "No, no, no, no, no, no."
I press the number of the last call, but it goes straight to voicemail after the first ring.
The voicemail has a message: "Hello, you've reached Eddie Simmons' phone. I'm not available at the moment, but please leave a message."
