A Missing Key 218 Missed Calls One Family Secret novel Chapter 65

Chapter 4** As the first light of dawn crept into the room, Dad stirred awake, his movements sluggish and uncoordinated. The remnants of a fever still clung to him, leaving his body feeling like a heavy weight, fragile and worn. He propped himself up on his elbows, squinting around the dimly lit space, confusion clouding his eyes like a thick fog. “Where’s Mara?” he croaked, his voice rough and raspy, cutting through the stillness of the morning.

He turned to Mom, who had dozed off in the chair beside his bed, her head drooping forward. “I need to get her ready for school.” Startled from her slumber, Mom jolted upright, a flash of irritation flickering across her features. But as she caught sight of Dad, her expression softened, morphing into a mask of gentle concern. “Vincent, go back to sleep. Mara… she was throwing a fit with me yesterday. She’s probably still sulking,” she replied, her voice soothing yet laced with an edge of annoyance. “Throwing a fit?” Dad frowned, confusion knitting his brow. “She seemed fine yesterday.

Don’t tell me you said something to her again. She-” Before he could finish, Mom’s demeanor shifted, her expression darkening with a venomous glint that flashed in her eyes. In one swift motion, she stood up, her frustration palpable as she strode into my room. She grabbed my little backpack, a cheerful bunny design that had always been my favorite, and marched straight to the courtyard gate. With a swift, forceful motion, she hurled it outside.

The backpack landed with a soft thud right on the very spot where I was buried, the cold, muddy ground now a resting place for my cherished belongings. “If you want to go to school so bad, go yourself! You’re old enough-do I have to walk you there?!” she screamed into the yard, her voice echoing with a mix of anger and desperation. I floated in mid-air, a silent observer, my heart sinking as I watched my beloved bunny backpack lying abandoned in the dirt, a testament to my plight.

The hours dragged on like an endless stretch of time, each minute a painful reminder of the chaos that surrounded me. Dad drifted in and out of feverish sleep, his face a canvas of worry and fatigue, while Mom remained glued to his side, a hawk watching over its prey, never leaving him for a moment. As evening fell, the phone rang, slicing through the oppressive silence. Mom picked it up with an air of annoyance, and I could feel the tension in the air as she recognized the voice on the other end. “Mrs. Wilson? Is Mara feeling okay? She didn’t come to school today,” Mrs.

Harrison, my teacher, inquired, concern evident in her tone. Mom’s eyes darted toward the yard, a cold smirk creeping onto her lips. “Oh, Mrs. Harrison, I’m so sorry. She’s been… going through a rebellious phase lately. Having a little spat with me. It’s nothing serious,” she replied, her voice dripping with a false sweetness that made my stomach churn. After hanging up, Mom’s expression darkened, the smirk replaced by a scowl. She marched out into the yard, her foot coming down hard on the very spot where my head was buried. “Look at you, getting all high and mighty, Mara!