The Blackout Girl ✔️

chapter forty

Chapter Forty

Lexi was there when Delaney was let out of jail. Not there at the prison, of course, but she was waiting in the kitchen with Cal when Delaney walked through the front door.

There was something in her that drew her home. She'd said as much to Cal that morning, and he'd driven them back to her house. He was supportive like that. In a frustrating sort of way, he seemed dedicated to her cause. Lexi felt like she was waiting to see where his limits were, but each time she expected him to shut something down, he didn't.

Her mother was fussing over making lunch. Mom believed an elaborate spread of lasagna, salad, and toast could suddenly rewrite the betrayal of their family believing Delaney was a murderer. Lexi was unconvinced, and her father definitely was too, but her mom was insistent and no one was going to talk her out of it.

She knew Delaney's return was inevitable after the new victim was found, but it was one of those things Lexi could dismiss in the I'll believe it when I see it category in her mind.

Currently, she was chopping tomatoes for the pasta sauce. Each time her knife pressed down into the soft outer flesh of the fruit, Lexi saw herself in flashes. Behind her, the stove was alive with flames flickering under the pots, water was boiling, and her mother had the countertop TV up as loud as it could possibly go.

A news broadcast was on, but more specifically, a segment about the weather. Lexi wasn't paying attention. For the most part, Dallas was always hot, humid, and generally stifling. There were only so many ways a journalist could say so before it got repetitive.

Mom didn't like the news. Lexi was pretty sure of that before recent events. It seemed like no one in their house was immune to the morbid curiosity that came with the investigation. Even if the reporters weren't on the topic of the FBI's case, they would be soon. Lexi was sure of it.

Lexi diced the rest of the tomato and left the plate on the island for her mom to grab when she needed it. In her frantic rush to get everything squared away, her mother forgot to say thank-you. Instead of indicating any gratitude, she flicked through the pages of her recipe book, wiping sweat from her brow with hands covered in flour.

"You good?" Lexi asked, cocking her head. "Mom?"

"I'm fine," her mother said sharply.

Lexi had a sneaking suspicion that wasn't entirely accurate. Earlier that morning, she'd watched her mom vacuum the same spot of carpet repeatedly for several minutes. The living room had been cleaned, they'd purchased a new rug, and everyone tried to reinvent the space. Still, her mom was fixated on it.

"Try" was the operative word. It seemed no matter how many times Mom vacuumed, she could never get rid of the blood. Even if she was the only one seeing it, it was haunting.

Cal nudged Lexi's arm with his shoulder. She nudged him back, eyes flickering up to meet his. "What?"

"I haven't been here in forever," he said. "Since, like, high school actually. Your mom hasn't changed a bit."

Lexi glanced over at her mother, smiling fondly. "Yeah. She's like that."

Recovery was possible with consistency. Her doctor had drilled that into Lex's parents after she woke up from her coma. In all of the brain scans and physical therapy sessions, her mom made it her mission to be a rock for her daughter. In some ways, that meant Lex stunted the evolution of the people around her. The nature of life was that it constantly shifted, and her family was overdue for a change.

Maybe that was why Q died. Or maybe she was looking for an explanation where one couldn't be found.

When the cab carrying Delaney home pulled into the driveway, Lexi felt her presence involuntarily. Goosebumps rose on her arms, and a chill rushed through the room. The heavy sound of the engine elicited a shiver down Lex's spine, and she tried not to be paranoid.

Her aunt still had a key to the house. Lex's parents hadn't changed the lock yet, so Delaney was able to walk in without a struggle. She entered in the same outfit Lexi had last seen her in on the day of the funeral. Delaney, who was greasy, rumpled, and looking worse for wear, seemed out of place wearing formalwear of any kind.

Incarceration wasn't a good look for her. Lexi could only imagine what it felt like to be free after being framed. There was probably so much anger brewing in Delaney, and she was keeping it composed under a thin mask.

"Hi, Delaney," Lexi said, offering her an embrace. Delaney was stiff, and Lex could feel the rigidness long after she let go.

"I'm going to my room," Delaney announced.

That was all she said. Of all the words the woman could have projected, she opted for simple ones that could fuel her escape. It was a wonder she'd even come back to the Robinson household. Lex figured the only reason Delaney was around was that she didn't have anywhere else to go.

Lexi's father was in the office. Delaney was his sister, and yet he wanted nothing to do with her. He probably needed time, more time than anyone really had, to get over the tumultuous weeks they'd been through.

No one would see him for the rest of the day. Lexi could picture him in his study, hunched over a book with the door locked, prepared to hide himself away for as long as he could.

Delaney's footfall was heavy on the stairs before the sound faded out entirely. The house returned to silence in every room but the kitchen.

Suddenly, Lex's mother slammed the spatula in her hands onto the counter. The plastic made a sharp, clattering noise, and judging by the expression on her mom's face, it was intentional.

Mom gritted her teeth. "It's like she doesn't understand everything I've done for her. She owes me a goddamn thank-you."

Quickly, Lex's mother turned the knobs on the stove off, dissipating the flames. With an irritated huff, Mom peeled out of the kitchen. If Lexi had to guess, she was going to take the back door out and go for a drive.

Lexi didn't know what her mom meant. Yeah, she was planning on getting some testimonies on Delaney's side, but it wasn't a big gesture in the grand scheme of things. In some ways, they'd betrayed Delaney, and it didn't make sense that her mother could feel so entitled to forgiveness.

Lexi wasn't going to make that observation aloud, but she sure as hell thought about it.