The Mixtape - Page 94

“Are you sure?”

“Yes. I’m sure. I’m fine.”

I moved in and hugged her, wrapping her tight in my grip so she could feel the comfort that her mind seemed to be missing. “I love you so much, Sammie.”

“I love you too. And I’m sorry for snapping at you. I’m just tired.”

The whole day while I was at school, my mind thought back to my sister. I wanted so much to get her the help she needed, but I wasn’t exactly sure how to go about it. She refused to acknowledge everything she’d been through.

When I finished my classes for the day, I rushed home to take Reese off Sammie’s hands to give her a break for her nightly walk. As I stepped inside, I heard Reese howling, and my stomach began to flip. I couldn’t help but think of the day that she and my sister had had. I bet they were both emotionally exhausted.

“Sammie, I’m home. I know she can get fussy around this time, so I can take her off your . . .” My words faded as I walked into the house to find Reese lying in her crib, screaming her eyes out. “Sammie?” I called out as panic rolled through my stomach.

I rushed over to Reese and picked her up. Her face was bright red from her burst of emotions.

How long had she been lying there unattended to? How long had she been alone? Where the hell was Sammie?

“It’s okay, sweetheart. I got you. I got you, you’re okay,” I said, hurrying to the bedroom to change Reese’s diaper. As I began to change her, I noticed a note sitting on the gliding chair. I couldn’t force myself to read the note right away—not until the sweet little girl had calmed down.

After Reese was changed, I went and warmed up a bottle. Then, as I fed her and tried my best to soothe the troubled girl, I picked up the letter. A letter that broke my heart with every single word that was written in black ink.

Emery,

I only left five minutes before you’re reading this. I saw you pull up from work and went out the back way. I just hope you understand that I can’t do this. I can’t look at her without seeing him. I cannot hold her, without remembering him holding me down. I cannot be the woman that she needs, I cannot be her mother. I tried, and I know you might think that this is something that’s going to pass, but it’s not. I can’t do this. I can’t. I got some paperwork filled out to leave you as her guardian. You’re the right one for this job, and I wouldn’t trust her with anyone else. As far as me, I’m going off to make a new life for myself. I’m going to find my footing in a new city, and I’m going to begin again.

Please take care of her.

Raise her as your own.

You’re the mother she deserves.

That’s not my daughter. She is yours.

I’m sorry for leaving, but you both are better off.

—Sammie

My teardrops hit the wrinkled paper as I stared down at the words that shattered every piece of me. Then, I went through the apartment and realized that all of Sammie’s things were gone—including her suitcases.

I called Mama to see if she’d gone home.

She hadn’t. Mama told me to keep her out of whatever issues Sammie and I were going through. I told her that Sammie was gone, and then she told me it was probably my fault before she hung up the call.

Sammie didn’t come home that night, or any of the nights that followed. She never came back, leaving me with a child to raise on my own and forcing me to drop out of school. Each night, Reese wailed, almost as if she knew Sammie had abandoned her. Late one sleepless night, as I tried my best to soothe the upset child, I cried along with her.

Around two in the morning, I heard a knocking at my door, and my heart skipped a beat. I hoped it was Sammie, finally coming back to her senses. Since she’d left, I’d found a list of organizations that could help her through her struggles. I’d made many calls and gathered a lot of information for both victims of rape and new mothers.

I wanted to give it all to her, I wanted to help her heal, I wanted to do whatever I could to bring my little sister back to me.

Yet when I opened the door, it wasn’t Sammie standing there. It was a woman I’d seen a few times in the building before.

“You’re having trouble keeping that baby quiet,” the woman said.

I was flustered, knowing that Reese had been quite vocal the past few days and that the walls of our apartment building weren’t the greatest.

Tags: Brittainy C. Cherry Romance
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