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MY EYES FLUTTER OPEN, TAKING A FEW moments to adjust to the darkness around me. The Heyward's are allowing me to stay at their home as long as needed, which means having all of the lights shut off by ten.

Since me and the pogues were celebrating until very late, me and Pope didn't get home until, like, four in the morning. Uncharacteristically, Pope wasn't freaking out about his curfew, but I didn't say much, given the fact that anyone would be to happy about finding five hundred million in gold to even give their parents rules a second thought.

I glance around the dark room, my throat scratchy and dry, yearning for water. My hands rub my eyes as I plant my feet onto the carpet below, hauling my tired body up before heading for Pope's bedroom door.

After a few minutes of silently making my way out of Pope's room, which is located in a separate area away from the Heyward's home, I find my way to the kitchen.

I flick on the lights, causing my body to fly backwards as my eyes fall upon Mr. Heyward, who is leaning against the counter, sipping a glass of juice.

"Jesus!" I breathe out in a hushed voice, not wanting to wake up Mrs. Heyward, whom I assume is in the next room, asleep. "Bobby, you just about gave me a heart attack!"

The middle-aged man lets out an airy chuckle, finding my actions to be amusing. "Watcha doin' awake, Marley?" He nods, clearly confused on why I'm not sound asleep at this time.

I awkwardly scratch my brow as I fill myself up a cup of cold water. "Just... couldn't sleep." I shrug, although the answer is much deeper than that.

I get nightmares — nightmares about Rafe, my parents, and basically any other thing that's wrong in my life.

The very recent finding of the gold doesn't help my lack of sleep. The gold is all I can think about, invading my dreams like a plague.

Obviously, I can't tell Heyward any of that. I mean, it's practically bate for him to start asking questions — questions I can't give him the answer to without lying. I don't want to lie. Not to Heyward, and especially to that extent.

"Ya sure bout' that?"

I nod as I take a long sip of my water, not wanting to respond in this moment. "Yeah, Heyward." I mumble after gulping down the cooling liquid, which relaxes my nerves. "You know I wouldn't lie to you."

The man clears his throat, setting his cup down and onto the counter. "Then why'd ya get kicked out? Get caught drinking? Sneaking out?"

Heyward's questions catches me off guard, not expecting him to interrogate me so straight up. I don't want to tell him about mine and my parents relationship, nor do I want him to find out for himself.

However, it feels hard to lie to the man. I mean, he's treated me with respect, a decent amount of kindness, and care, which is much more than my mother and father have cared to attempt at.

I frown, attempting to play it cool, although I feel the exact opposite. "No, No." I shake my head. "We just don't get along, is all." I continue, not wanting to further elaborate on my plain response.

"It sounds to me that yous' need some new parents." The man sighs, a tinge of sorrow and anger in his tone.

I nod with a tight lipped smile. "Maybe." I place my cup into the sink, giving it a quick rinse and dry. "Well, goodnight, Bobby."

"Don't call me—"

"Sorry, Bobby."

With that, I head for the exit of the kitchen, a smile on my lips. I don't get very far, though, because what Heyward says next stops me dead in my tracks; "Leave."

𝐰𝐢𝐥𝐝 𝐰𝐚𝐯𝐞 || jj 𝐦𝐚𝐲𝐛𝐚𝐧𝐤Where stories live. Discover now