Chapter 16

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"What did you learn about today?" Mom asked as I sat at the table, coloring a map my teacher had passed out. 

"I learned about mountains and the states," I replied. 

"Did you learn about the Rockies?"

"Yeah." I changed the crayon I held.

"Did you see pictures?"

I nodded. "My teacher showed us some. They're pretty."

"They run the length of the country, but do you know where they're the prettiest?"

I looked up. "Where?"

"Colorado." She turned away from the stove and reached out a chapped hand, pointing to one of the states on my map. "This one right here."

"That's close." I looked at her, ignoring the black eye that was healing. "Why can't we go there?"

She gave me a soft, sad smile. "We can go there one day," she promised. "One day, I'll make sure that the two of us will be sitting together, looking out at the mountains."

I smiled at her words, but the smile soon faded. "Two? What about Daddy?"

She gave me another sad smile, but this time she rubbed my head.

---

"Penny for your thoughts," Brayden said, snapping me out of my reverie. 

God, how long had it been since I'd thought of my mom like that? That smile - had she been planning on leaving even then? I was only ten. Had she been biding her time until I was older? It was a question I wasn't entirely sure I wanted to know the answer to. 

"I was just remembering something," I said softly as I watched the city slide past. We were on our way to Denver, just leaving the hotel we'd been staying at. I had barely been able to sleep in my excitement over seeing the mountains. "Nothing important."

He nodded and we slipped into a comfortable silence. I let my thoughts wander back to that day in the kitchen for a moment before pulling myself back to the present. Those memories weren't the best place to visit. Instead, I pulled out the phone I'd stolen from my father and checked it. There were three missed calls, but I didn't recognize the name. Phoebe Charleston. I rolled my eyes at her name. Probably one of the girls my father messed around with. 

The phone began vibrating again. Phoebe. I rejected the call and sighed. "Someone you don't want to talk to?" Brayden asked.

I shook my head. "Not really. I don't even know her." I opened the texts and saw a conversation between them. Not surprising. I scrolled down and read the names. Most of them I didn't know, but then I saw my mother's name: Stacy James. With a trembling finger, I tapped on the thread. Messages popped up between the two of them. 

Mom was trying to convince my father to let me come and visit and she sent her address. He told her I wasn't interested. As I scrolled up, I began seeing more and more messages asking him to let her speak with me. He kept telling her that I didn't want anything to do with her. 

My heart squeezed painfully as I read. He never told me anything. I thought my mother never tried to reach out to me. I didn't know. I didn't. . . I. . .

"There are tissues in the glove box." I snapped my attention to the boy driving. He pointed at the small handle in front of me. 

"I'm fine," I said in an embarrassingly wobbly voice that was anything but. I finally felt wetness on my face. I reached up and wiped the tears I hadn't realized I'd begun to shed.

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