Page 3 of A Vow To Redeem The Greek

“Hey, things didn’t go so well. Can I come over before the party?” I asked.

“Of course, come on over,” Shea’s worried voice replied. “Is everything okay?”

“I don’t know,” I said honestly. “I’ll see you in a few minutes.” I hung up and stuck my hands in my pockets as I strode to Shea’s house down the street.

I hated what happened back there, but it needed to happen, one way or another, and had needed to for some time. I’d had enough of secrets and changed subjects, enough of blindly complying with ridiculous requests.

Things were never going to be the same after tonight, and that was both exciting and terrifying.

Chapter 2

Arya

“I’m sure everything will be okay,” Shea reassured me as we walked back from the party. “I can’t even tell you how many times I’ve argued with Gram, and it always turns out alright.”

I had tried to enjoy the party, but I spent the whole time wrangling a giant knot of stress in my gut. Mom hadn’t called or even texted, which was incredibly uncharacteristic of her. Even when I was at school, she usually texted at least once to check-in.

Had I broken her heart? Sent her into a nervous breakdown? I dreaded going home, and I was grateful that Shea offered to come with me. I really needed that support right now.

“I hope so,” I said, kicking a pebble in my path. “My mom and I have never fought like this. I’ve never even talked back to her before. I know it’s a silly thing for a teenager, but she’s kinda my best friend—besides you, of course.”

“I don’t think that’s silly at all,” Shea said. “I think it’s kinda sweet, actually. I wish I could say that about Gram. I mean, I love her, but I wouldn’t call us ‘friends’.”

We continued walking in silence for a moment, and then Shea added, “I’ll stick around as long as you want me to. Or, I canleave right away to give you guys time to talk. Whatever you need.”

“Thanks,” I said, managing a half-smile.

My house came into view, and the stress knot constricted even tighter. I had no idea what to expect, and part of me hoped that we could just go back to the way things were. I’d rather have a happy relationship with Mom, even if it was shrouded in secrecy.

As we got closer, I realized something was off. The front door was wide open. Mom never left the door open after nightfall. As soon as the sun went down, she would turn the deadbolt. The stress knot flared with a wave of panic, and I picked up the pace, my brisk walk quickly turning into a run.

“What’s wrong?” Shea asked, running behind me.

“I hope nothing,” I said as we made it to the door.

I scanned every inch of the living room. Nothing in the house was out of place. Everything was just as it had been when I left.

“Mom?” I called out.

No answer.

I bolted across the small living room toward the last place I’d seen Mom—the kitchen.

“Mom?” I called out again, receiving the same empty silence in reply.

“Arya, something about this doesn’t feel right,” Shea said, hovering in the doorway and looking around. “We should go.”

I didn’t have time to wonder at the unfamiliar caution of my usually reckless friend.

“I have to find my mom,” I insisted, the idea of leaving the house seeming ridiculous.

I stomped into the kitchen and then froze.

Lying on the floor, pale blue eyes open wide and beautiful face fixed in anguish, was my mother.

I dropped to the floor beside her, my hands fluttering and fumbling, eventually finding their way to Mom’s unflinching face.

“Mom? Mom!” I yelled, gripping her shoulders and trying to shake her awake.