The Forgotten Ones by Laura Howard Read Free Book Online Page B

shimmers and glitters from within. I walk toward it, almost as if I’m under a spell. When I reach out to touch the orb Liam grabs my arm and shakes his head. I look up at him, disappointed. I can’t tell what he’s saying but his lips move as he pulls my arm away from it. Inside the glass ball, suspended in a sparkling prison is a tiny black-haired woman.
    I sat up in my bed— another strange dream —and sighed in relief to find myself in bed at Gram’s. But as my heart settled, I considered how many dreams like that I’d had in the past six months. A whisper in the back of my mind taunted me. Crazy . Just like her.
    I couldn’t remember if my mother’s illness began with bizarre dreams, though. The days before my mother really lost her sanity were hazy at best. Memories of her in the mirror combing my hair were outnumbered by the breakdowns and vacant stares.
    I look over at my clock. It was early but there was no way I’d be able to get back to sleep. Might as well get my run in before the heat became unbearable.

    The rhythmic thumping of my sneakers soothed me when my mind worked overtime. I had always been fast, so fast I sometimes felt like I was flying. It had won me countless medals and awards over the years, but that’s not why I did it. Running was something that was for me and only me. Things like schizophrenic mothers, reappearing fathers, and boys with dimples didn’t exist when I ran. All I felt was the wind and my heartbeat, my feet carrying me along. And the less I felt right then, the better.
    I wiped the sweat from my brow as I got closer to home, my heart pumping, each beat throbbing in my ears. My body felt strong, but inside I felt weak, scared, overwhelmed. I needed to cool down—in more ways than one—so I slowed my pace, trying to match my breaths to my footsteps. Anger at Liam was sitting heavy on my chest, a cannonball filled to the brim with years of guilt and hurt threatening to implode. Why did he have to show up? My mother was sick enough already.
    As I approached my grandparents’ driveway, a flash of black caught my attention. Those damn black birds had been watching me whenever I came or went. They hadn’t caused any more upsets with my mother, at least, so I tried to ignore their beady little eyes, even though I wanted to chase them all away.
    I pulled my ear buds out as one flapped its wings. But it was a movement beyond the bird that startled me.
    Several yards in from the street I could just make out the figures of two men standing by a pickup truck in the clearing. They were on my grandparents’ property, so I edged closer to the tree line to see what they were up to. Through the branches I could see one of the men gesturing with his arms. I couldn’t make out their words, but I easily recognized the rich, low voice. Ethan.
    What is he doing here? I squinted to identify the man he was talking to, but Ethan’s frame obstructed my view. I moved up the path to get a better look.
    And when I did my jaw just about hit the dirt.
    The man in front of Ethan was a few inches shorter, one hand rested in his light-brown hair, as if it helped him concentrate on what Ethan was saying. I’m not sure what gave me away, but those sharp blue eyes quickly shifted to where I stood. What was Liam doing here talking with Ethan?
    As I began backing away, Ethan followed my father’s eyes, nailing me in place. His entire demeanor changed upon seeing me there. One minute he was all business, the next his eyes brightened like he was a man in the desert and I was a cold drink of water.
    Ethan started toward me, and I was filled with dread as my father walked alongside him, both pairs of eyes trained on my face.
    “Hey, Al,” Ethan said.
    I did my best to smile at him, but my attention was on the man walking to his left.
    “I didn’t even know your grandparents sold this plot,” Ethan said as he approached.
    My eyes darted to Liam. This was news to me, too.
    “This is Liam McKeown. Liam,