What She Left Behind ✔️

chapter seventeen

It started out as a normal day.

I woke up, went to work, got lunch with Levi, and then stopped by my parent's house for dinner. It's my dad's birthday, so my mom made his favorite: ribeye steak with garlic mashed potatoes and roasted vegetables. Benson and Alyx came by, too. Mom's cooking is to die for, so everyone was excited, even Evangeline. She doesn't like steak, but she was in high spirits. Ever since I started proofreading her book, she's been walking on air.

It's a good story, and considering it was authored by a first grader, it's well-written. It's a tale of a young princess who loses her parents to a tragic dragon attack and is forced to become queen of her home country. I don't know if it was inspired by Raelyn's death or if that part is a coincidence, but there are times when I can't tell if the grief is Princess Diamond's or Evangeline's.

While we waited for Mom to finish whipping the potatoes, I helped Evangeline type her story on my laptop. She wasn't sure if she should give Princess Diamond a prince. I told her the last thing the young ruler needed was a man.

"Then why are you wasting your time with Griffin?" she asked, giving me a pointed look.

"Griffin? Who's Griffin?" my dad demanded.

"Does my little sis have a boyfriend?" Benson removed his arm from Alyx's shoulder and nudged me. "Do I have to beat him up?"

"Oh, my god. Shut up." I felt myself blushing but ignored it, focusing on the words in front of me. "Okay, Vange, so I was thinking—"

The doorbell rang, drawing my attention from the computer. My mom put the masher down and moved toward the sound, a perplexed expression on her face.

"Are we expecting anyone else?" Dad inquired.

"No, everyone's here," she responded, turning the doorknob.

A middle-aged woman with a freckled face and brilliant red hair appeared before us. Before my mom could greet her, the stranger pushed her aside and stormed into the house.

I watched my dad's smile fade. He rose to his feet and blocked her path. He isn't a large man—he's a few inches taller than I am and about one-hundred seventy pounds—but when he gets angry, he's a force to be reckoned with.

"Excuse me? Who do you think you are just barging into our home like this?" he questioned her.

The woman crossed her arms over her chest and smiled. "My name is Carla Porter," she answered, "and I'm here for my granddaughter."

I noticed her resemblance to Raelyn. Their hair, their freckles, even their mannerisms were similar. Carla didn't look like a junkie, though. Based on her designer jacket and her shiny leather boots, she seemed pretty put-together.

"We're her foster parents," my mom said. She was the epitome of confidence and grace.

"Yeah, and I'm her grandparent," Carla snapped back. "She's my blood. She belongs with me."

"I don't know her," Evangeline whispered. Her eyes were wet with tears. "I don't want to go with her."

"You don't have to." I realized I'd been holding her hand. Loud enough for Carla to hear, I added, "You don't have to anything you don't want to do."

"Ah, you must be the infamous Gemma." Carla's cold gaze met mine. "Rae told me a lot about you."

"How is that possible? You lost custody of her when she was eight because you chose drugs over your daughter," I retaliated.

"We reconnected a few years ago. She used to send me video updates on her life. It was actually pretty adorable."

I froze. Video updates? Was she the one who Raelyn was talking to on the flash drive?