Something for your Mind

chapter 7

I tapped my nails on the kitchen table frantically. My heart was racing out of my chest, the room spinning. The other end of the line was dead silent. I stood and paced back and forth around the kitchen, my phone gripped by my ear.

Finally, a deep sigh rang into my eardrum. I winced and lowered the phone's volume as quickly as I could before placing it at my ear again.
    
"You're telling me that you have six million dollars?" Carmen said slowly. I drew in a sharp breath.
    
"Precisely," I breathed.
    
Silence. I heard the doorknob being fumbled with from the front, followed by the door creaking open. I sighed. I'd told Emelia to go to the store and get milk. She was hesitant, still not wanting to leave the house. I took that as an opportunity to insist she needed the fresh air to help clear her mind, anything to get her out so that Carmen could come and hear the news.

My plan fell into shambles when I texted her, and she simply told me she didn't want to come because she still wasn't feeling good. I decided a call would have to do, and at least Emelia wasn't around to overhear. How was she back so soon?

I turned the corner into the living room, and Emelia had one hand holding her up against a wall, the other straining to hold a jug of milk.

She struggled to slip off her black leather boots, so I swiftly took the jug from her hand. She thanked me with a short, relieved sigh and pulled her boots off with her free hand.
     

"I'm gonna go get some fresh air," I called back to her, putting the milk in the fridge and shutting it. She groaned.
    
"Do you ever stay inside?" she snapped sarcastically.

I rolled my eyes at her as I stepped past her through the door. A few birds were chirping, and it was perfectly warm. The sun shone directly onto my small yard, which made it almost a bit too hot, so I sat under the little tree in the shade.
    
"Sorry," I said into the phone finally. The line was quiet, and my heart sank a little assuming that Carmen hung up.

A moment later, she laughed. She laughed one of those genuine laughs that block your lungs so you can't breathe, tears streaming down your face.

I kept the phone clutched at my ear, frozen in surprise until Carmen regained her composure. I'd never heard her laugh in such a way before.
     
"What?" I demanded, confused.

I waited for her to finally clear her throat and catch her breath.
     
"Give me my damn money back, then!" she snorted.

I laughed, the sound feeling peculiar in my throat. I hadn't laughed since the day at the beach.
    
"Don't worry, I transferred the money from her account," I reassured her.
     
"I'll come get the money tomorrow," I heard uncomfortable shuffling on the other end. "I'd get it today but..." she trailed off.

Red and blue lights caught the corner of my eye, and when I looked up, I gasped aloud. Two police cars parked right in front of my tiny, lifeless home. I turned my attention back to Carmen. 
     
"I understand, brains aren't always nice." I tried to sound cheerful. "Anyway, I'm getting another call, I'll talk to you later, okay?" I lied and hung up without a reply.

One of the cars' doors opened, and a woman, probably in her early thirties, stepped out.

Emelia, dressed in a light blue tank top and plaid pyjama pants, swung open the front door and rushed down the steps, but stopped in her tracks when the officer motioned for her to go back inside. She paused, but obeyed without a word.

When the officer was satisfied that Emelia was away, she approached me. I stood from my spot in the shade, my heart beating heavily. I knew what she was going to say. She found my mom dead somewhere, either that or she was in prison for kidnapping Avelyn.
     
"Hello, my name is Officer Lindsey. Are you Mason Lambert?" she asked me. I nodded.
     
"Uh, yeah."
    
She pulled handcuffs from her belt. "Mason, you're under arrest for theft."