Captured Lies by Maggie Thom Read Free Book Online

freaking out. She’d scared Bailey more than the hundred times they’d
moved at night. Not moving east was another in her mom’s one hundred and one
rules that hadn’t made sense.
    If she could back fourteen years to
when she'd turned fifteen, she could fix it. Everything had changed that summer
and nothing either one of them had done could bring back the closeness they’d
once felt. This time there’d be no making up. I’m so sorry, Mom.
    Bailey felt like she went from
free falling, to crashing with a driving force. She dropped to the floor, tears
already dripping off her face. Heavy, wracking sobs tore through her. They
started in her gut and ripped outwards. Her body shook as the pain and anguish
coursed through her, like a hurricane zipping across the ocean to crash on
land, tearing to shreds anything in its wake. She curled on her side, hugging
her knees to her chest, clenching herself into the smallest ball she could.
    After minutes or hours or days, she
didn’t know, the sound of the old style ticking clock filtered through her
consciousness. Opening her gritty, burning eyes, she closed them quickly as the
last vestiges of light bounced off her mom’s brilliantly shined floor. She
pushed herself up, arching her neck so she could see over the top of the fridge
to read the time. 5:40 a.m.? p.m.?
    Beyond the window, it was still a
bleary day - grey skies and muted light. She guessed evening. Shifting
slightly, the hard surface dug into her tender hip. She groaned then shivered
as the cold linoleum penetrated her thin, damp clothing. Easing herself up, she
flopped back against the door. She took a deep breath and then on her butt
shuffled a few feet to grab hold of the kitchen counter. Using it as a prop,
she pulled herself up. Her stomach chose that minute to growl. She looked down
at it in disbelief.
    Did I have toast this morning?
Or was that last night?
    Grabbing a cup from the cupboard,
she filled it with cold, tap water. The fluoride taste turned her off but she
downed it anyway, hoping it would appease her empty body for a while. Her
stomach instantly protested by knotting up and giving her an instant stomach
ache. She held her belly for a minute trying to ease the pain, realizing it was
more of a symbol for what she was avoiding. Where she found the courage to turn
and look at what she had wanted to avoid, the reason she hadn’t come to the house
before now.
    The city newspaper lay open on a
stack of newspapers. Just like always. Her mom would read some and then rush
off to work, do laundry, grocery shop, whatever and then she’d come back and
look over some more. It had to be examined from front to back. Not necessarily
in order but it all had to be reviewed. She should be coming back to check it
over some more. Give her opinion on what the government was doing wrong.
Grumble about who was still in government.
    She’d be back, at any moment.
    Bailey’s breath hitched and she
pressed her hand to her stomach. Everything else looked the same, clean, tidy
and packed so tight with stuff, not a thing out of place.
    But it wasn’t the same.
    She looked down at the mug in her
hand – Friends are like sunshine, there for the good times and gone for the
bad.
    To avoid this, she’d chosen to
stay at a hotel the last two nights. She hadn’t needed to go to the house
before. Staying probably wasn’t a good idea. The memories would hound her but
she also knew she wasn’t in any shape to drive. Not wanting to deal with any of
it, she picked up her dark red luggage which was splayed out across the floor.
She flipped her carry-on over one shoulder and grabbed the pull-up handle of
the suitcase and dragged it behind her. She walked out of the kitchen, turning
right at the living room to go down the hallway. Her feet took the route that,
although not done frequently, was still familiar. Her eyes stayed focused on
getting to the spare bedroom and getting some sleep. She stepped into the room,
dropping her stuff at