Echoes of Memories (Nepherium Novella Series Book 2) by Samantha LaFantasie

Author:Samantha LaFantasie
Language: eng
Format: azw3, mobi, epub
Publisher: Samantha LaFantasie
Published: 2014-07-27T05:00:00+00:00

TEN

SOMETHING HUNG SUSPENDED IN the air, thickening it and making it harder to breathe. It was heavy like a sheet of glass held up by a thin, delicate thread. I held my breath for fear the thread would give and let the glass fall on my head. The invisible threat was all that remained of the innocence and safety I found in my childhood home. The last time I walked this path was when I ran down it, tears blurring my vision, and my father’s words burned into my mind, echoing the hate and anger he held within himself. Hate toward something I couldn’t understand much less remember. If I stepped through that red door right now, and that thread were to snap, would it shatter what was left of the welcome? I didn’t know, but I had to try.

A layer of snow frosted the stone path and blanketed the lawn. It sparkled in the soft light seeping from the windows. The bushes near the porch steps held clumps of white, sticking out against the evergreen needles like frozen balls of cotton. The red door beckoned me, luring me to the handle and what would forever remain a changed, emptier, and broken house.

Upon stepping inside the door, I was greeted by the smell of my mom’s homemade cinnamon apple potpourri. Holiday music played over the speaker system, humming along just louder than a soft whisper. My mom worked on something in the kitchen, the cabinets clunking opened and closed.

I expected things to look different. I expected things that reminded of the loss and the emptiness in the home to be removed and the furniture shifted to different places in the rooms. I expected picture frames to be missing and things to feel different.

But everything was the same.

Nothing had changed.

I looked over my shoulder at the transporter parked on the street. I gave a nod, the signal for Blake to pull away. The transporter’s engine revved higher, and then it lifted into the air. I waited for the transporter to leave before closing the door and walking to the table, where the bowl of potpourri sat on a circular linen. I fingered the soft, silken tassels of the cloth before reaching for a curl of cedar and bringing it to my nose. A smile pulled on my lips. Something I thought I would never do again, but it felt good. I replaced the curl of cedar then moved toward the kitchen. The aroma of a roast filtered toward me from within.

For a moment, I panicked. My mom was cooking roast. She lived alone. Now anyway. She wouldn’t go through the trouble of making a big meal for just herself. Which meant she was expecting someone. I didn’t want to interrupt the dinner for whatever company she expected. Then talking came to me, muffled through the door, making me hesitate just on the other side.

“Did they call and tell you she was on her way?” Mom asked.

“Yes,” Justin said. “She should be here any moment.

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