My phone rings at 3 A.M., ripping me from oblivious dreams of leisurely walking through the French Quarter with Austin, happy without a care in the world.

I fumble for the screeching device, hastily throwing my pillow off the bed in sleepy confusion. I frown through bleary eyes. The name flashing across the screen reads, "Unknown."

I hesitate, dread swirling in my gut. I slide my thumb across the screen before I can talk myself out of it, and bring it to my ear.

"Hello?" I ask, my heart pounding in my ears.

A sharp intake of air is heard on the other line. I frown. "Who is this?" I demand.

The line abruptly goes dead. I stare at the black screen.

"What the fuck," I mumble, confused, annoyed, and tired.

My head spins with assumptions of who could have been on the other line. Mom? Aunt Dina? Dad? Warning sirens go off in the recess of my mind; something is up, and I have a feeling that I'm about to find out what.

——

Hours later I'm freshly showered and dressed for the day. Piece of half-eaten cheese toast in hand, I tap out a quick message to Austin, wishing him luck for his reunion with his dad while I wait for a cab.

Savannah bounds into the kitchen, backpack haphazardly hanging off her shoulder. I step away from the counter and watch as she fills a travel mug with coffee.

"Morning," I say, dusting the bread crumbs from my hands.

She grunts in response.

I smirk. "Your shirt's on inside out."

"I don't care," She murmurs.

I snort. "I didn't think you did, but I thought I'd warn you anyway. Are you working today?"

She snatches an off-brand pop tart from the pantry and rips it open, taking a bite before mumbling, "Yup. I close tonight."

"Anna's mom giving you a ride again, or should I ask Sid if she can?"

"Nah, it's covered," She yawns. "When's Austin getting back, though? The bus smells like farts and the guy from down the street always sits behind me and smells my hair. I miss having my chauffeur around."

"Sav," I admonish. "His sole purpose is not to drive you around."

"No, but that is a valuable perk of you having a steady boyfriend. Try not to run him off before I can get my own car, okay?"

I roll my eyes. "Thanks for the vote of confidence."

"You're welcome," She states before releasing a groan.

Sav steps away from the counter and throws her pop tart wrapper away. "Speaking of the mobile shit van, it'll be here any minute. Wanna watch Harry Potter with me when I get off?"

I ruffle her hair and empty my own mug in the sink, my coffee now cold. "As long as you promise not to sob during Prisoner of Azkaban again."

Walking backwards, Savannah scoffs and says, "That's a normal reaction for those of us who aren't scared of our feelings."

"Leave before I push you down the porch," I chirp.

Her answering laugh follows her out the door as it slams closed, and deafening silence greets me in response.

I check the time on my phone, noting that my own ride will be here soon. Glancing towards the darkened living room, I find myself on the same page as Savannah, waiting on his return.

Before his entrance in my life, I was aware of how depressing my every day mundane routine could be, but I never thought to change it. Being with Austin makes me wonder how I'd gone so long without impulsive Waffle House dates or late night talks in bed when the two of us are still wired after all-night shifts.

Being with Austin made me happy to be alive, and now that I'd gotten a taste of how fun life can be, I don't want to go back to what used to be my normal. So, whether or not she was joking, Savannah's right.

I can't run him off.

And unless I find my mom and finally squash her business with my dad once and for all, it's inevitable that I will.

——

Peering out the window, I instruct, "Right here's good."

The cab slows and pulls up to the curb. I grab a twenty from my purse and look up, ready to hand it to the driver when the look on his face stops me.

Confusion. Judgement. Disgust.

"Have a nice day," I say tightly. I shove the money in his hand and quickly let myself out.

Stepping into the sidewalk, I take a deep breath and straighten my shoulders. I release a sigh and make my way past the entrance sign to the seediest Motel 8 in Memphis.

Known for its monthly drug and prostitution ring raids, it's no surprise that the cab driver assumed the worst the minute we pulled up.

I bypass the office and reluctantly make my way towards the last room on the right. I side-step a couple arguing and swiftly knock on the door, rolling my eyes when the curtain covering the window swishes and a pair of eyes peek out at me.

The door swings open and the woman immediately sneers at me. "What do you want? How'd you know I was here?"

"Nice to see you too, Leslie," I greet my cousin dryly.

She props a boney hip against the withered door frame. "Wish I could say the same. What are you here for?"

Still a bitch as always, I think to myself. Last time I said it out loud, she tried to deck me in the face.

Key word: tried.

"I'm looking for our moms. Have you seen them since you've been out?" I ask.

Leslie runs a hand through her stringy black hair and rolls her eyes. "Mom stopped by yesterday with cash for my probation officer. Maeve was with her, waiting in some red SUV while mom and I talked."

I furrow my brows. "Where the hell did Dina get money and a car?"

My cousin rolls her eyes again. "Hell if I know. That all?"

"Did she get a new number? I tried calling her but it's disconnected,"

She narrows her eyes. "Maybe. You good for it?"

I grit my teeth in frustration. "Are you good for another black eye and a phone call to your probation officer?"

Leslie straightens up. "Bitch-"

I reach out and push the door open wider, causing her to stumble. As she regains her balance, she mumbles a curse when I look pointedly at the guy on her bed, smoking from a pipe of God knows what. Whatever it is, I know it's not legal, and a one way ticket back to county for someone who just got out on a previous drug conviction.

"Phone number," I reiterate. And then, just because I am a bitch, I smile and sweetly say, "Please."

Leslie stomps to the desk in the corner, scribbles something on the back of a receipt, and practically throws it at me.

"Thanks, cuz," I smirk. It widens in satisfaction when her nostrils flare angrily. I fight the urge to laugh when the door slams shut in my face.

Not wasting any time, I speed walk past the couple who's still going at it, and practically run for the exit of the motel.

I collapse on a bench inside of a bus stop and yank my phone from my pocket, hastily dialing the number.

It rings for what feels like forever until finally, someone groggily answers, "Hello?"

"Dina?" I ask.

"Whose 'is?" She mumbles.

I fight the urge to scream. "Your niece, Aria. Is my mom with you?"

"Aria..? Why you callin' me so damn early for, kid?" She snaps.

I pinch the bridge of my nose. "Doesn't matter. Is mom with you or not?"

A groan echoes through the speaker. "Maeve, talk to your kid."

I nearly collapse in relief when my mom's sleepy "What?" chimes in after a brief moment of silence.

"Mom," I sigh. "Wherever you are, I need you to come home. Dad's in town and he has something important that you-"

"Mark's in town?" She interrupts, suddenly alert.

"Yes," I say. "But-"

"Dina! Mark's back. He's at the house. Get up you lazy bitch, we have to go," Mom hollers.

"Wait, mom," I try to say, but she cuts me off again.

"We'll be there tomorrow, can you tell him? Tell him to stay where he is and that I'll be there soon," Mom begs.

"Tomorrow?" I ask, confused. "Wait. Mom, where are you?"

The line goes dead.

I stare at my phone, flabbergasted. "Fuck," I whisper.

What have I done?

——

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