Girl, Forgotten (Andrea Oliver 2)

“Nevertheless,” he said. “I’ve got some very interesting stories about dear Jasper’s gluttonous past that might interest you.”

“Like what?” she demanded. “He’s been at every parole hearing you’ve ever had. You didn’t think to use this information to shut him up before?”

“Curious, isn’t it? Why would I hold something back that could destroy him?” Clay chuckled in the silence. “Come see me, daughter. I promise you won’t be disappointed.”

Andrea’s mouth opened to respond, but no words came out. She could feel the cold air inside of her mouth. She thought about the oxygen flowing around her. Circulating through her bloodstream. Bringing life into her body.

Clayton Morrow had not called because he wanted to spill dirt on Jasper. He was calling to pull Andrea back into his orbit. She could not let her world stop for him. He was a psychopath. His oxygen was attention. He needed Andrea to feed his fire.

“An-dree-ah,” he sang. “I think you should—”

She ended the call.

She slipped the phone back into her pocket. She looked out into the street. A bike coasted by. People were rushing to do their shopping. Children were negotiating homework. Millennials drank lattes. A Great Dane on a long leash trotted in front of her like a show pony.

Andrea pushed away from the wall. She walked into the building. On the stairs, she could hear the low rumble of Mike’s voice, the warmth of Laura’s laughter, the constant clearing of Gordon’s throat.

Last month, her mother had accused Andrea of approaching every challenge in life as if it was a cliff that she had to fling herself over. Completely out of control. Letting gravity take over.

Now, her life was more like a diving board.

Andrea had finally learned how to jump.

She’d already known how to fall.