Etching Our Way (Broken Tracks 1)

“Of course you did,” Nate answers, his gaze running from me to Izzie. “Your mom loved dancing so much, she would practice every single day.”

“She did?” Izzie asks, soaking in all of the information that Nate is giving her.

“Stop,” I whisper, my voice a mere croak as I take hold of Clay’s hand.

“Whenever she danced, no one could stop looking, she was mesmerizing, just like you are, princess.”

My nostrils flare and my breaths turn to gasps the longer he’s talking.

“I said…” I clear my throat, my eyes lifting to Nate and narrowing, fire burning behind their depths. “Stop.”

As soon as he hears my threatening tone, he spins to face me, his eyes wide.

“Tris…”

“I said stop.”

I step forward, taking Izzie out of Amelia’s arms and holding her to my chest before taking hold of Clay’s hand again and stepping around Nate.

“Let’s go and get burgers and ice cream,” I announce.

“Is Uncle Nate coming?” Clay asks.

I turn my head back toward Nate and grind out, “Uncle Nate is busy.” I warn him with my eyes not to disagree with me before turning away from him and walking out of the theater, barely able to keep it together.

A Great Big World—You’ll Be Okay

Ingrid Michaelson—Be OK

It’s been over a week now since I met with Nathan, and there hasn’t been a night that I haven’t dreamt of that day. The day my life took a nosedive right into the ground and I felt like I was slowly being suffocated; like someone was holding a pillow over my face, only allowing me up every few minutes for a much needed breath before pushing me back down again.

He reminded me of everything that I lost all those years ago, but I can’t think about that right now, not when I’m back in the same very town, only a tunnel width away from where some of my best—and worst—memories took place.

Mom walks in from work and kisses me on the cheek. “Hey, Harmonica. Any luck on the job front?”

I tap on the keys of my laptop. “Nothing that I want to do.” I let out a breath and tilt my head to the side.

My fingers are itching to paint, art is my world, the air that I breathe. Without it, I feel like I’m not able to quite catch my breath.

She sighs as she sits down next to me. “You can’t sit around moping and waiting to hear back from your attorney all day. I think every time I’ve come in you’ve been curled up, staring at your phone like it holds all of the answers that you’re searching for. I know you’ve only been back two weeks, but it’s not healthy. There’s no time like the present to get back into the working world.”

I know that. I know if I had a job that time would go by quicker, but something that I can’t quite place my finger on is stopping me.

“Come on, Harmony, don’t you think you should start looking for a real career instead of entertaining your hobby? You’re not getting any younger, y’know.”

I wince as Gerry’s words ring through my head like a shrill bell. A real career; it was a real career. “I… Never mind.”

“What’s that, hon?”

I shake my head. “Nothing, Mom. Just a stupid pipe dream.”

She stands up and shrugs off her lightweight jacket. “No dream is ever stupid, Harm. What is it?”

“It doesn’t matter, I couldn’t do it anyway.” I face the laptop again, scrolling through the local jobs but finding nothing that piques my interest.

“Your dad and I didn’t raise a quitter. Tell me what it is you don’t think you could do.”

Her face is serious and I know she won’t let this go; I wish I never started to say anything.