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"Sleep well, Mykie," Jezebeth murmured.
Mykie turned on her heel and started to walk away before she stopped.
"Jez?"
"Yeah, Myk?"
"I'm sorry."
The kitchen was silent for a moment and Mykie thought about walking back into the kitchen and over to the girl.
Thick and strained words came from the kitchen. "It's not your fault. You weren’t the one holding the knife."
Mykie walked the rest of the way to her bedroom and flopped on her bed. She turned over and reached into her bedside drawer and pulled out a sticky note. It was the last thing her father wrote for her, and she kept it all these years.
Have fun at school, Kiki! You know what to do if those girls keep bothering you. I know you said you're too old to get notes in your lunch from your dad, but I wanted to remind you I'll be home with Chance later tonight, so you better be ready for the greatest Pictureka game of your life!
Love,
Dad
He had left it in her lunch the week before he had died, and she remembered being so embarrassed. No one else at her school had a parent who left notes in their lunchbox. Not many other than hercarrieda lunchbox, preferring the hot school lunch instead. She also remembered that she had the time of her life playing with him and Chance. When he died, Chance respected Mykie’s wishes to not talk about her father. They never played Pictureka. Chance never wrote notes for her in her lunch. The only thing they did to honor her father was keep the last things he loved and go see him every May on the day of his death.
She laid on her back with the note clutched to her chest. She never would have wished this feeling on someone else. Especially someone who didn’t have an amazing relationship with their father in the first place. She may not have killed Jezebeth’s father, but she certainly felt responsible for the death.
She closed her eyes and cried herself to sleep.
She was awakened a few hours later when her door opened and closed. She thought about turning over and facing the wall but peeked an eye open instead. What if it was the person that was watching her?
"Sorry if I woke you," Ryker whispered. "I was at Pearl's all night, and when you didn't answer, I was a little worried you got yourself into more trouble."
"I sent you a response," she croaked. Her throat was still tight from crying mere hours before.
"You must have not hit the 'send' button, because I didn't receive it." Ryker shrugged. "It's not a big deal, now that I see you're all right."
He sat down on the edge of her bed and started to pull off his shoes. She noticed that he never left them in the living room near the front door whenever Jezebeth was home. There wasn’t a rule to leave them out there, exactly, but it was the normal thing to do. She never questioned his actions before, but suddenly Noah and Dexter's questions from earlier were pestering her mind. She shoved them away again as she sat up in bed.
Ryker looked up from his shoes. "I didn't mean to wake you. Go back to sleep, and we'll talk when you're more well-rested.”
Mykie shook her head. "No, it's all right. I'm up now."
She took the crumpled note still clutched in her hand and set it on top of the bedside table.
"What's that?" Ryker's eyes followed her hand with interest.
"It's the last thing I have of my father's. I fell asleep looking at it. It doesn’t matter now, though."
The smile on his lips fell from his face as his eyes searched her face. "I see. Is it because of what happened to mine?"
"No..." She sighed. "Maybe. I don't know."
She drew her legs up and hugged them to her chest as she stared down at the bed. She didn't want to see Ryker's expression at the moment. "I didn't have enough time with my father, so I didn't really get a chance to feel the heavy grief Jezebeth, Renly, and you must be feeling right now."
"It'll be hard to deal with, but we're older now. We rely on our fathers less, so it's less of a blow than it must have been for you." Ryker shook his head. "I was only twelve when it was in the paper about your father's 'accident'. What happened?"
Mykie leaned her chin against the top of her knees as she peeked up at his face through her bangs. He sounded genuine, and his expression seemed to be sympathetic. Damn it. She needed to get Dexter’s words out of her head, otherwise she would be suspicious of every move Ryker made.
She looked away again before she spoke.
