On The Run: Part Two

Chapter Forty-Nine - "The Crash"

Sarah

I was sitting on a sandy beach, my feet covered by the water. I looked back at the house, as my mom walked over. In her golf outfit, she looked so beautiful, the sun a halo behind her head.

“Hey there,” she said with a grin, as she settled down next to me.

“Hi, mom.”

I felt like I hadn’t seen her in a little while, but of course I had. She was my mom; where would she go?

“Going for a swim?” she asked.

“Thinking about it,” I replied.

“Sandy coming over?”

I frowned, “Sandy?”

“Yeah, are you feeling okay? You look . . . Are you okay?” she asked, placing her hand on my forehead.

I shrugged her hand away, and laughed, “Mom, I’m fine!”

“Okay. You want to come golfing with me? Sandy can come too.”

I hesitated, “Um . . . where’s Jake?”

She stared at me in confusion, “Jake? Who’s . . . Are you cheating on Sandy?” she had mock alarm on her face.

I pretended to laugh along with her, but I was getting the feeling that something was very wrong. The water over my feet was starting to feel even colder.

“Come on, let’s go golfing. Your father’s waiting,” she said, holding out her hand.

“Mom . . . um . . . what about Chloe?” I asked slowly and hesitantly.

“Who are these people? Did you hit your head while you were surfing or something? I don’t even think you have a friend called Chloe. Should I get Dr. Eisenberg on the phone?” she said wary, then worried.

“No, that’s okay,” I took her hand, and let her pull me up. I spotted the figure approaching in the distance, and I cringed internally as Sandy reached me and pulled me into a hug.

What the hell was happening?

“Hi, Mrs. B. Golfing?” he said, giving my mom a hug and a kiss.

“Yes, would you like to come along? Sarah seems to have hit her head, but I figure you would probably have a better swing than her right now,” she said, peering worriedly into my face.

Sandy slipped his arm around my waist, and pulled me to him, “Surfing again?” He shook his head in disbelief.

“Do you mind if I stay actually? I’m a little tired.”

“You want me to stay with you?” Sandy asked.

“No!” I said a little too emphatically. They looked surprised, but I simply shrugged and said quickly, “I just want you to have a good day.”

“Okay,” Sandy replied warily.

Something was terribly wrong.

 

I stepped into my room; it looked almost the same as it always had, minus the over-excited posters, and the exaggerated colors.

I ran into my closet and pulled out my top drawer, searching for the manila folder. There was no false bottom; the drawer was simply filled with my purses. There was nothing else. I felt a chill run down my back.