Nearly Broken by Devon Ashley

Author:Devon Ashley
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub
Tags: General Fiction
ISBN: 9781482565089
Published: 2013-06-04T08:00:00+00:00

My heart thumped as Nick pulled to a stop in front of a white brick, two-story home. I couldn’t help but grin over the thick, beautiful bushes of blue hydrangeas that lined the front of the house.

“You ready for this?” he asked me.

“Sort of. I want to meet them, I just hope they’re not expecting too much from me yet.”

“They’re not. I warned them you still haven’t remembered anything.”

I nodded as I released my seatbelt and slowly climbed out of the car. Nick was by my side in an instant, already comforting me by squeezing my hand in his, like he could transfer some of his confidence through our grasp. A young boy rode up on his bicycle and came to a screeching halt when he saw me. He was probably about twelve years old and just stood there staring at me with wide gray eyes.

“Who’s that?” I whispered.

“I think he’s one of the neighbor’s kids you used to babysit sometimes. Can’t remember his name though.”

I awkwardly waved at the stunned boy as the front door opened and Mr. and Mrs. Whitaker – uh, Mom and Dad – stepped out onto the porch patio. His arm was wrapped firmly around her shoulders. If I wasn’t mistaken, it was to keep her grounded, because she bobbed back and forth on her feet, seemingly ready to bolt towards us.

“Relax. Your parents are really great people.” That said, he pulled me up the walk.

“What should I say?”

“Whatever comes to mind.”

I didn’t know why, but I was absolutely terrified inside. The people standing before me raised a daughter that was stolen from them, and the girl coming back was completely different than the one they lost. I knew they’d always love me, but would they ever love me as much as they had Claire? How could they not long for the little girl they carried around in their arms and tucked into bed each night?

And how could I ever hold any of those feelings against them?

Two years, six months, thirteen days since I was ripped from their lives, since any memory of them began to fade into nothingness.

Those last few steps were the hardest. I could now see their eyes clearly – calmness coming from my father’s brown pair and elation beaming brightly from my mother’s pair. My father was at least six feet, somewhere in his fifties and had salt-and-pepper hair trimmed short. My mother looked a lot like me, but with hazel eyes instead of brown, and looked to be in her late forties.

Nick’s hand released mine as he lifted it to shake my father’s, saying, “Tom.” I think it surprised us all when he ignored the gesture and wrapped Nick up in a firm hug instead, patting him loudly on the back. I wasn’t sure what was said between the two, because my mother was now free to sob, “My baby,” and gently wrapped her arms around me. I breathed in her scent – sweet vanilla. So overwhelmed, all I could

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