Take Me Tomorrow

Chapter 20: I Told You To Run

I didn't stop him.

He left, and I slammed the door behind him. I locked it, but then forced myself to unlock it in case Lily arrived. She was expecting Miles at any moment, and I was expecting them to come here as soon as he returned.

"Is he gone?" Lyn asked as she entered the room.

"Yep." I leaned my back against the opaque door. The glass pressed cold against my shoulders. "He didn't say when he'd be back."

Lyn raised her right eyebrow. This was the one she raised when she knew I was lying—or doing something worse.

"What?" I asked, waiting.

She said nothing. She turned away and disappeared into the kitchen. I followed. Steam rose up from a boiling pot and filled the small room with lingering warmth. Argos hovered nearby, and I sat down at the table.

"You didn't tell me he was on drugs," she spoke her mind.

She had heard every word.

"I didn't know," I admitted, but Lyn's dark eyes moved across my face. "Honestly," I promised. "I thought it was aspirin."

"He's an addict, Sophia."

I knew it before she said it, but hearing it was another experience. I bit my lip, only to force myself to grumble from an almost-closed mouth, "So, why are we helping him?"

"We aren't," she said. "We're helping the entire country."

"We?"

She sighed. "You don't remember Albany for what is was. Leaving there and helping your father was the best thing I could do, and the best thing your father can do is to aid Phelps and help others cross borders when he can. We can only do so much."

Lyn was fighting her own war. So was my dad.

"Your father's doing what he can, away from here where it's much worse, so you didn't have to go through what we did." She paused, and tapped her fingernails against her favorite tea mug. It said #1 MOM. The first year she'd arrived, I'd painted it for her at school during craft time for Mother's Day. I didn't want other kids asking where my mom was, so I made something for Lyn. She truly was the best mom to Falo. And I had felt like I had one for a second.

"Make no mistake," she continued, "the war came to you."

I tore my eyes away from the mug and stared at the peeling wallpaper. "Noah isn't a war."

"You're right. He's not." She took a sip. "He's just a pawn in this, and he will end up dead."

My fingers curled into fists on my lap, but my palms were already moist with sweat. "Why would you say that?"

"Because I don't want to see you go out with him, and I'm not referring to dating." Her lip yanked up at the last part, like she had made a joke, but she hadn't. She was talking about death.

"He saved my life," I said.

She leaned on the island in the middle of the kitchen. "How?" She didn't sound impressed. "By forcing you to escape through a river?"

Lyn always knew everything. I blamed it on the fact that she was a mother. Maybe it was a good thing mine wasn't around.

"He helped you avoid your arrest. He didn't save you from dying," she said. "Now, don't get me wrong, Sophia. I care. I do. I just don't care enough about him to lose you in the process."

"I'm here, aren't I?" I snapped. "I stayed home—"

"This time," she argued, snatching up the teapot. She poured the hot liquid into two mugs, but she didn't bring me one. "I can't watch you forever. I can't force you to make the decisions I want. I can't do anything except hope you're a damn better fighter than most."