Breaking Emma (Divisa #2.5)

Like Travis’s eyes…but I wasn’t going there. Not now.

My boots crunched on gravel as I walked down the lonely, flat road. I had traded in my ballet slippers for combat boots. Oh, how things had changed. But as I looked around, my eyes couldn’t seem to get enough of the countryside. It was both new and familiar. The same old farmhouses lined Main Street. The apple orchard was in full bloom. The mosquitos were still pesky buggers on a blistering autumn afternoon. I loved the music of crickets during a drought. I guess it wasn’t Spring Valley that was different. It was me.

I was the new change in town.

As I strolled down the road toward my home, I wondered if anyone would recognize me. Would they stop me and call my name? Would there be tears for the girl who had gone missing?

Before I’d left the facility, I was given a large tan envelope with my instructions. These included my cover story. I mean, I couldn’t just pop back into my old life as if I hadn’t been gone for over a year. My mom had been brought up to speed regarding my impending arrival. My room was being readied. And Spring Valley had better watch out, because chaos was about to hit this sleepy town.

Really the only uncertain factor in my return was Abi, who now, at four years old, was a blabbermouth, a complete chatterbox. There were some concerns about whether Abi would be able to keep up the pretense, because in reality she was too young to really understand it all.

But none of that mattered, because I couldn’t wait to see both Monkey and my mom. I was literally jumping out of my skin with excitement, and I wasn’t nearly as worried as my parents were about Abi blowing my cover. If anything I was more worried about what they might do to Abi if something slipped out. You can’t expect a four-year-old to keep monstrous secrets.

I just hoped she remembered me. Emmie.

Walking through my front door, I was washed with an onset of memories. The homely smell hit me like a ton of bricks, and I felt a crack in my hardened heart. I didn’t expect balloons, banners, or a welcome home party, but it would have been nice if the house hadn’t been empty.

From room to room, I strolled, calling out for Mom and then Abi. The only thing that answered me was dead air and the stupid chime of the grandfather clock. I tried to bury my disappointment. There wasn’t room for feelings as a hunter, but I was still a young girl and I wanted to see my mommy.

Pushing open the door to my bedroom, I stared at the room with its pink and lace bed in the middle. There was a part of me that longed for the sparkle of the girl who used to sleep here, but the crossbows and daggers had won. Glancing around the room made me feel like I had walked into another dimension. Had that girl ever been real?

Slumping onto my bed, I closed my eyes and sighed. This beat the heck out of the stiff and lumpy mattress I’d slept on for the past year. The bed was sweet luxury. I felt like a princess. Then I remembered I couldn’t be farther from a princess if I tried. Staring at the ceiling, my mind went blank.

An hour passed before I heard the garage door open.

I rushed down the stairs in an ungraceful whirlwind, flying around the banister and slipping on the floor. The smile on my face was stupidly huge. “Mom,” I said, tears clogging my throat.

She looked…magnificent. Her blonde hair was swept up in a sophisticated bun, and her light green eyes went wide. “Oh, Emma. What a surprise.” She embraced me in a giant hug, and I was afraid to let go. She pulled back at arm’s length and studied me. “You look amazing.”

I felt something wiggle between us. “Hiya, Monkey,” I said, grinning down at the little girl with strawberry-blonde hair, who looked like a miniature me. She was dressed in a pink leotard and black ballet slippers. She reminded me of the old me. I saw the future I’d once had flash before my eyes, except it was Abi’s face, not mine. I tried not to feel cheated as my grin faltered.

Crouching, I got down to her level. Monkey was suction-cupped to my mom’s thigh, and my heart plummeted. Around my mom’s leg, she snuck a glance at me with uncertain emerald eyes. We used to be thick as thieves. She had looked up to me. Now I was like a stranger to her.

I couldn’t help but wonder where my boisterous, giddy baby sister had gone. This little girl seemed shy and withdrawn.

“Abi had a dance lesson today,” Mom said, explaining their absence.

Nodding, I tried to hide my disappointment and annoyance. I doubted I fooled anyone. I was flabbergasted that one dance class couldn’t have been missed for Abi’s big sister’s return.

Where were the tears?

Where was the home-cooked meal?

The three of us stood in hallway in uncomfortable silence, shuffling our feet, straining for something to say to each other.

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