Page 50 - My FlipBook

L IS A J. L A W R E N C E

Thanks.” Then she backed out the door before the woman
could ask any questions.
Ash climbed out of Rebus to meet her.
“Room ten,” she said.
Nate unrolled his window as they started to walk away.
“I’ll wait here!” he called to their backs. Greta barely heard
him, her eyes fixed on the silver 10 on the orange paint.
“What are we going to say to him?” Greta asked. “Why

didn’t we talk about this?”
“What is there to say?” Ash shrugged. “Come home, you
moron. Bring the Antichrist if you must.”
She reached over and clutched his hand. That was
happening a lot lately. There was a time he would’ve shaken
her off, before everything got so twisted. She let go to pound
on the door, filling her lungs and blowing the air out slowly. ADVANCE READING COPY

This will work. It’s got to work.
A voice from inside, low. They were there. As Ash raised
his hand to knock again, the door opened a crack. Roger’s
blue eye met theirs. Dad. If it’d been Patty, Gretta might’ve
climbed back into Rebus and taken off.
“Dad.” She said it out loud this time.
Roger let the door fall open, revealing an unmade bed and
some shirts tossed over the back of a chair. The funky odor of
weed hit them full on, making Ash and Greta flinch. Roger

struggled to form words, something close to terror on his face.
“No, you’re not hallucinating, Dad,” Ash said. “We’re
your children—Ash and Greta. The ones you abandoned in
Edmonton.”

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