* * *
Haven paced the floor in Carmine’s bedroom, listening attentively for noises from below, but her ears were met with silence. No yelling. No screaming. No commotion at all.
The stillness only served to fuel her imagination as she conjured up wild scenarios—none of them remotely good. Her hands shook, fear coursing through her as a door slammed on the floor below. Footsteps hurried up the stairs as her heart thumped harder, so frenzied she could feel the blood rushing through her.
The door flung open, slamming the wall with a bang, and Carmine hurried in. He headed straight for his closet and threw things around, tossing two duffel bags onto the bed. “Pack some shit.”
She didn’t move. “What?”
“We need to get out of here, Haven.”
Haven felt woozy. She wanted to ask what was happening, desperately wanted him to explain, but she knew the answer would terrify her. She staggered to the bed and sat down as Carmine ran to her room, Dr. DeMarco’s words echoing through her mind. She had promised she would never run again. She swore she wouldn’t follow Carmine blindly.
“Why are you sitting there?” Carmine asked when he returned, his arms full of clothes. Thoughts swirled madly around her mind as he filled both bags and held his hand out to her. “Let’s go.”
The moment the words rolled from his tongue, her mind was made up. No matter the consequences, she had to go with him.
They hurried downstairs and Carmine pulled her onto the porch, not bothering to close the front door in his haste. Unlocking the car doors, he tossed the bags into the back and motioned for her to get in. As soon as they were settled, Carmine started the car and thrust it into gear. The tires spun and gravel sprayed as he sped away from the house.
“What’s going on?” Haven asked once they got on the highway, her voice cracking and stomach bubbling. “Why are we running? Did something happen?”
blinked away tears as memories assaulted her. Twenty minutes had gone by, so she took a deep breath and started writing. She wrote whatever came to her mind as she thought of her mama, how a good parent never gave up and always encouraged their children to dream.
The instructor called time as Haven put a period on the end of the final sentence. The rest of testing flew by, and they were dismissed at three in the afternoon. The Mazda was waiting in the fire lane with the music blaring, and Haven quietly slipped into the passenger seat.
Carmine turned his music down as he pulled from the curb. “How did you do?”
She smiled softly as he offered her his hand. “Okay.”
Neither spoke on the drive back to Durante. When they arrived at the house she went right to the kitchen to make something to eat. Carmine sat on the counter beside the stove and watched her as she cooked. “Are you making enchiladas?”
She nodded. “They were, uh . . . my mama liked them.”
“Looks good,” Carmine said.
“Thanks.”
“We can eat and watch a movie or something.”
“Okay.”
“Or maybe we’ll play a game.”
“Okay.”
“Actually, I’m tired, so maybe we’ll go straight to bed.”
“Okay.”
“Probably won’t even fucking eat.”
“Uh, okay.”
The room grew silent as Carmine glared at Haven. His shift in demeanor startled her. “Are you okay?”
“I’m fine,” he said. “You, I’m not sure about. Since I picked you up, you’ve barely said a dozen words and half of them were okay. Did something happen?”
“No.”