One By One (editing)

Chapter Twenty One

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"What?!" I screeched into my phone, pacing back and forth on my messy bedroom carpet.

"Carter, I know it's hard to understand and that you're feeling very scared, angry, and betrayed right now, because that's exactly how I feel. But we're going to get through this."

"How can you say that? You just told me those men are going to act soon."

"I'll figure something out. Just don't worry about it."

"Mom, this is so messed up," I gritted my teeth and launched an angry kick at a balled up sweatshirt.

Her voice was soft. "I know."

"How do you even know about this?" My question ended with more of a rising inflection that I had intended, a hint of my skepticism clearly present.

"There was an unknown number on your father's phone that left a voicemail and I checked it out."

"And Dad definitely can't fix it on his own?"

"No, honey. I don't think so." She sounded so defeated over the phone I could only imagine how she looked at work. Legs crossed and hair pinned back like usual, sitting behind a huge desk in the front lobby. But today I could picture her head hung heavily in her hands, stress creasing her forehead, and a hushed whisper escaping her lips as she explained to her eldest daughter about how her husband put her entire family in danger.

"Crap."

Her voice was muffled as she greeted somebody and when she came back on she said, "Alright I have to go now. We'll figure out Friday but honestly your social life is the least of my worries right now. Don't forget to clean your closet and help out with dinner. I'll be home later tonight."

"Ok, bye. Love you."

"Love you too."

I tossed my phone on my bed and headed towards my closet. Honestly, it was already clean from the last time Mom told me to clean it, but I knew that wasn't why she had told me to do it. Under one of my shoes was a little note scrawled in the loopy handwriting of all the rest:

Don't forget to call Luke at 5:25 p.m.

I checked the clock. It was only 4:00 p.m.

What am I supposed to do for an hour and 25 minutes?

When I had come home, Granma Jo and Natalie were going to take Teddy and the girls to the park after they came home. Liv and Vic jumped up and down, their curls bouncing, begging me to come too. Emily even popped out her lip, which she hadn't done in ages. But I just shook my head and said I was sorry, I had too much homework.

In reality, I couldn't even think about homework. The math test I had tomorrow was definitely going to be proof of this, but I could honestly care less.

I just needed a clear head. I needed to distract myself from everything, from what was constantly on my mind: my family being torn apart in more ways than one. Quickly texting Granma Jo and Natalie that I was heading out, I swiped the keys from the hook and put the car in drive. I didn't know where I was going and I didn't care.

I felt like I was doing that a lot lately. Just mindlessly wandering. So much had happened since Sam was kidnapped last Friday, it hadn't even been one week, yet I felt like years had gone by. So much pressure, emotion, and stress had worn me out until I felt like a teetering building one small push away from collapsing.