Heart of Glass

by Nicole Jacquelyn

I hated that I had to bring Etta with me, but the alternative wasn’t an option. We’d never been apart for more than nine hours while I worked, and that wasn’t going to change anytime soon. She was still too little to be without me overnight. I guessed if she had another parent it would be different, but it was just me and her. Where I went, she went.

  I called my sister once from the road to make sure she was okay, but left her alone after that. She seemed really tired and I was hoping she could get a little rest even if she didn’t actually sleep. Besides, keeping my tired eyes on the road and my foot from pushing the gas pedal all the way to the floorboard took all of my energy anyway.

  At three in the morning, after Etta had fallen asleep and we’d stopped for gas twice, I finally reached Miranda’s college campus. It was quieter than I expected. Prettier, too. There were ornamental trees everywhere, and lots of grass, and even the parking lots filled with inexpensive cars were clear of trash and yard debris.

  The campus was obviously well taken care of. I wasn’t sure why that mattered to me, but it did. It was kind of comforting knowing that my sister lived and went to school in a nice place. There’d been years where I’d lived in complete dumps while I tried to figure out my life, so I was glad she was figuring hers out in a place that looked like this.

  Finding her building was pretty easy since the campus was quiet and I could drive as slowly as I needed in order to read the well-placed signs on every corner. Finding a parking spot that didn’t have a reserved sign on it was a little harder, but I managed. By that time I was so antsy to get out of the car and find my sister I’d have parked on the manicured grass if I hadn’t found something pretty quickly.

  I lugged sleeping Etta and our bag into Ranna’s building using the code she’d texted to open the front door, then followed even more well-placed signs to her room on the second floor.

  And then I just stopped, frozen. I needed to get to her, to touch her and make sure she was okay, but a part of me was dreading the moment she opened that door and I had to face whatever it was that had made her need me there.

  Finally, I lifted my hand and knocked using the rhythm we’d used as kids that let her know it was safe to open the door. I hadn’t had to use it in more years than I could even remember. It took her almost a minute to come to the door and when she opened it, surprise and relief made me sway a little on my feet.

  She was wearing a pair of my dad’s old pajama pants and an oversized hoodie, and her hair was sticking up at all angles, but she looked fine. Haggard and sad, but physically I couldn’t see anything wrong with her. Her hands were tucked into the sleeves of the hoodie and her long toes with chipped blue polish were peeking out of the hem of the pajamas, curled into the ugly brown carpet in a way that had always reminded me of a baby monkey. Everything seemed almost normal. It wasn’t until she opened her mouth that every horrible thought that had run through my head in almost seven hours of driving was confirmed.

  “Sissy,” she whispered, her entire body seeming to sag in relief as her sad eyes met mine.

  “What happened?” I asked, pushing inside the room.

  I laid Etta down on the bed so I could wrap my arms around my sister.

  “I don’t know,” she replied, her forehead resting against the side of my neck.

  My arms tightened and I rocked her a little from side to side, the same way I did with Etta when she was upset.

  “I don’t know what happened. I woke up and I didn’t remember anything.”

  My head began to pound.

  “I went out. I’m always careful when I go out.” Her body shuddered. “I’m a fucking senior. I’m not an idiot. I’m always careful.”

  “Okay,” I said, unsure how to respond. “Okay. Who were you with when you went out?” She wasn’t letting go of me so I didn’t let go, either. I’d stand there in that spot all night if I had to, my muscles so tensed that I was practically vibrating.

  “I went by myself.”

  I cringed, but didn’t respond. Miranda had always been independent. She’d never needed a large group of friends or a posse to feel comfortable. She was just fine going to a restaurant or a movie on her own; if anything, I think she preferred it.

  “And where did you go?” I asked when she didn’t say anything else.

  Her chest heaved against mine, and if it hadn’t been silent in the room and I hadn’t been listening intently, I wouldn’t have heard her whispered “I don’t remember.”

  I held her even tighter as the implications of her words set in. She’d gone out by herself and woken up alone in her room, but she had no idea where she’d been or what had happened. Hours and hours of her life just gone.

  I swallowed hard and smoothed a hand down the back of her short hair.

  “Were you sick when you woke up?” I asked, my voice trembling. “Do you hurt anywhere?”

  Miranda was silent for a long moment.

  “No,” she replied.

  Relief hit me first. Overwhelming, full-body relief. But crashing on top of that, with the power of a sledgehammer, was the knowledge that my baby sister was lying. I wasn’t sure if she was lying to both of us or just me, but I knew deep in my bones that she wasn’t telling the truth.

  “Thank you for coming,” she said, lifting her head from my shoulder.

  “Shut up,” I replied, trying to lighten the mood, just a little. “I needed a break anyway.”

  We both knew that was a lie, too. I’d barely just started my new job after weeks of not working. I wasn’t even sure if I was going to have a job to go back to. It didn’t matter, though. Family trumped everything.

  “I’m so tired,” she said, dropping to the only chair in the room.

  “Climb in with Etta,” I ordered, stepping over to scoot Etta over against the wall. “She doesn’t take up much space.”

  “No,” Miranda argued quietly. “You’ve been driving all night. You sleep there. I’ll—”

  “Ranna,” I murmured in warning, my big-sister voice coming out to play. “Get in bed.”

  And just like when we were little and she knew that I was in charge, my sister nodded and climbed into bed next to my daughter, curling around her with a sigh. I pulled Etta’s blanket out of our bag and tucked it around their shoulders, swallowing the bile that rose in my throat as I wondered who’d done the same thing the night before.

  The bed was tainted, I knew that much. I sat down in the chair across from them and beat back the need to pull them both up and burn the entire thing.

  Who the hell had brought my sister home the night before? Who had left her with no memory of what had happened and scared the shit out of her?

  My mind raced as I sat there, listening as Miranda’s breathing evened out. I was so angry I could barely see straight, and as the night wore on I went over and over possible scenarios. Someone must have seen her. She lived in a dorm, for Christ’s sake. People were in and out of the hallways all the time. It had to be nearly impossible for someone to carry Miranda’s passed-out body into her room without someone noticing.

  Right?

  I wanted to weep. I wanted to scream when Miranda jerked awake twice and then tried to hide the fact that she’d had a nightmare. I wanted to pull every sleeping college student in that building out of their beds and make them tell me where they’d been and what they’d been doing the night before. I wanted to pound on the walls and trash the tiny room.

  I wanted to go back and teach Miranda that there was safety in numbers. I wanted to tell her that the college she’d chosen sounded awful and she should pick another. I wanted to have come to visit a week earlier so she wouldn’t have been out alone.

  By seven in the morning, I could hear people moving around outside Miranda’s door as they got ready for the day, and that made me even angrier. Someone must have heard something. Someone had to have noticed something.

  I left a note for Miranda on her desk and stepped outside the room, my eyes roving over every person I saw. Guys and girls were moving f
rom place to place, not making eye contact or interacting at all as they stared at their phones and started their days. A sense of futility settled around my shoulders like a heavy blanket. Those people wouldn’t have noticed if I’d come out of Miranda’s room covered in blood and reeking like a sewer.

  My hands shook as I pulled out my phone and scrolled through my contacts, finally settling on one. The only person I could stomach talking to. The man I’d treated like crap and had been ignoring for weeks.

  Chapter 13

  Trevor

  I’d been up half the night with the black Lab puppy I’d finally broken down and adopted, so when my phone rang I didn’t even bother to look to see who it was before answering it.

  “You got Trevor Harris,” I grumbled, assuming it was a work call as I walked toward my truck.

  “Hey, Trevor Harris,” a familiar voice replied, making me stumble to a stop and check the caller ID.

  “Morgan Riley,” I said, unable to hide the surprise in my voice.

  I knew I’d see her at some point, since she’d been in contact with my mom and had agreed to visit again sometime, but I hadn’t expected her ever to call me again. No, I pretty much figured I’d have to ignore the way she’d avoid me at any family function she brought Etta to, just to keep things civil.

  “How’ve you been?” she asked.

  I almost laughed, the question was so asinine. I’d gone from missing her like crazy to thinking that I may have made the wrong decision when I’d backed off, and I’d finally landed on being pissed at how she’d handled things and even more pissed at myself for getting into that situation in the first place. Why the hell was she calling me?

  “I’m good,” I answered flatly. I climbed into my truck and started her up without another word. I sure as hell wasn’t going to carry the conversation. She was the one who’d called me.

  “That’s good,” she said, the last word kind of fading to nothing at the end.

  It was then that I noticed that her voice was off. Something was different. Something was wrong.

  “Is Etta okay?” I asked.

  “Yeah, she’s fine,” Morgan replied instantly. “She’s good.”

  Then silence again. Not a single word that gave any kind of indication as to why she’d called me or what she needed. She just sat there on the phone, like it was completely normal.

  We both broke the silence at the same time.

  “What do you—”

  “I think someone drugged my sister.”

  “Say what?” I snapped, my hand tightening on the steering wheel.

  “I think someone drugged her,” she said again, sounding completely baffled.

  “You gotta give me some context here,” I replied, trying to stay focused on the road. “Who drugged her?”

  “I don’t know,” Morgan ground out. “I have no idea. She told me she can’t even remember where she went and then she woke up in her dorm room.”

  “She’s still in Oregon?” I asked, turning into the parking lot at work. “Do you need me to go over there?”

  I couldn’t imagine something like that happening to Kate or Ani while I was in a completely different state. The thought of being unable to get to them made me livid.

  “No,” Morgan replied. “No, I’m here.”

  “You’re where?”

  “I’m in Bend. I’m with my sister.”

  “You were with her?” I barked, my breath catching.

  “She called me after,” she clarified. “I drove up last night.”

  “Where’s Etta?”

  “She’s with me,” she answered, like it was the most normal thing in the world.

  “Jesus Christ,” I mumbled, throwing my truck into park as soon as I’d reached my parking spot. “Is your sister okay? Is she hurt? Are you okay? What do you need?” The words tumbled out before I could think them through.

  “I’m okay,” Morgan said, her voice wobbling. “I don’t need anything.”

  “Are you sure?” After all the time that had passed and her absolute rejection, there had to be a reason for her call. At that point, I didn’t even care what it was. I just wanted to give her whatever she needed.

  Maybe that made me a sucker. I didn’t care. If there was ever something in my power to give that Morgan needed, I was pretty sure I’d do my best to give it to her.

  “I guess I just needed to hear your voice,” she said quietly.

  I felt those words in my chest.

  “You can hear my voice whenever you want,” I reminded her. It had never been my decision to stop talking—that had been all her doing.

  “I know,” she replied. “I screwed up.” Her voice got high, and I knew, even though I’d never heard that tone before, that she was crying.

  “Hey,” I said gently. “Hey, it’s okay.”

  “She’s really freaked out,” Morgan said, sniffling. “She lost hours, Trevor. Poof. She has no idea what happened.”

  “Did she report it?” I asked, shaking my head as Bram started toward my truck. He spun on his heel and went inside the building instead. “Has she talked to anyone?”

  “I don’t think so. She called and asked me to come, so we drove up here last night. She said she didn’t think she was hurt, but—”

  I grimaced and consciously unwrapped my fist from where I’d been gripping the steering wheel. There were few things in my life that could make me completely lose it, and violence directed at women was one of them.

  I didn’t understand it, I didn’t want to understand it, and just the thought of it made me see red.

  “She needs to report it,” I said, opening my truck door when it began to feel like there was no air left in the cab. “She needs to go today.”

  “I don’t know if she will,” Morgan mumbled after clearing her throat.

  “What? Why?”

  “Because,” Morgan snapped, then sighed heavily. “Just because.”

  I shook my head in confusion but didn’t argue. Even if I thought she was doing the wrong thing, her sister’s decisions weren’t my business. I didn’t know Miranda. I’d heard plenty about her, but I hadn’t ever actually met her.

  “I better go back inside,” Morgan said. “I don’t want them to wake up when I’m not there.”

  “Okay.” I scrubbed a hand over my face, not sure what to do. “Call if you need anything.”

  “Okay.”

  “Seriously, Morgan,” I said. “If you need anything. I’m only a couple hours away.”

  As soon as she hung up, I hopped out of my truck and stood for a minute in the cool morning air, trying to calm down.

  Was it shitty that I was glad Morgan had called, even though I hated the reason for it? The fact that she and Etta were only a couple hours away made me almost jittery.

  “What’s going on?” Bram called, walking out of the building as soon as he saw that I was off the phone.

  I debated blowing him off, but only for a second.

  “I was talking to Morgan.”

  “Really?” he asked dubiously. “What’d she have to say?”

  All of the cousins knew something had gone down between us, but I was pretty sure Ani hadn’t given them the details. Bram was her other half, though. I knew he’d heard the entire story.

  “She’s in Bend,” I replied, nodding when his eyebrows shot up. “Something happened with her sister.”

  “She broke her leg or she’s in a coma?” Bram asked, asking in his own ass-backwards way how bad the situation was.

  “She woke up not remembering the night before,” I said quietly through my teeth.

  “Oh, fuck,” he replied, instantly growing serious. “We need to go down there?”

  “They have no idea what happened,” I answered, shaking my head.

  “Did she report it?” His question didn’t surprise me, but I did find it a little ironic that reporting it was the first thought in both of our minds, while Morgan and her sister felt exactly the opposite.

  “She’s not going
to.”

  “Why?” Bram asked, completely baffled.

  “I’ve got no clue.” I started toward the front door but stopped before I made it to the sidewalk in front of the building.

  “Man, why wouldn’t you report shit like that?” Bram asked, coming up beside me. “That makes no sense.”

  “Agreed.” I flexed my hands, wishing I could hit something.

  I couldn’t go inside. I couldn’t work all day wondering what was happening on that college campus. I couldn’t stay where I was, hours away from Morgan, knowing that she was with her sister who’d just been attacked.

  Not only was she shouldering that responsibility alone, but she also had a two-year-old with her, and God only knew who had drugged her little sister.

  “You heading over there?” Bram asked, reading my mind.

  “She’s probably going to be pissed.”

  “Who fucking cares,” Bram replied with a shrug. “At least you’ll be there if she needs ya.”

  I paused and met his eyes.

  “Hey, man,” he said, lifting his hands out in front of him. “No judgment. I kept going back after Anita dropped my ass. I know it’s not always as simple as it looks. She called you.”

  “Ani told me to back off.”

  “If I’d backed off, me and my woman wouldn’t be where we’re at now,” Bram said easily.

  I nodded. “I’ll call you later.”

  “I’ll do your job for you,” he called out as I walked back to the truck. “Just like fucking always.”

  I flipped him off over my shoulder and left without another word.

  Three hours later, I was checking into a hotel in Bend.

  * * *

  “What do you mean, you’re here?” Morgan asked tiredly when I called to find out exactly where they were.

  “I’m in Bend.”

  “Oh.”

  When she didn’t say anything else, I got worried.

  “Morgan?”

  “You didn’t have to come here,” she said slowly. “I’m pretty sure my sister’s going to be pissed if she knows you did.”

  “I’m here for you,” I said simply. “Where are you?”

  “But I’m here for my sister,” she said, not quite an argument, but close enough.