Flock (The Ravenhood)

The next morning, wearing a giddy smile from the recollection of my dreams in the shower, I tread down the staircase with a rehearsed excuse on my lips, nerves firing off as I cross the foyer and walk into the dining room. I’m relieved when I find it empty. But that relief is short-lived when I hear the ping of my phone and see an email from my father, and the subject line, visitors. Roman Horner doesn’t text—that’s much too personal. He corresponds with his child through email.

You’re a grown woman, and I realize the conditions of your stay with me might be a bit stifling on your extracurricular activities due to your late schedule. That said, this is the second night I’ve lost sleep due to your late-night appearance and the noise of your arrival outside of my front door. From here on out, do your best to see yourself home at night and be respectful of my house, Cecelia. Visitors are to be kept at a bare minimum. Also, I will be staying in Charlotte for the next few days due to my schedule. The housekeeper will be in today. Please let her know if there is anything you may need.

Roman Horner

CEO Horner Technologies

I fight the urge to send back an eye roll emoji. Instead, I fire back a ‘Yes, Sir.’

I’m just about to FaceTime Christy when my phone rings.

“Hey, Mom,” I say, making my way toward the kitchen to grab my yogurt.

“It’s been two days and not a peep.”

“I’ve been busy. I haven’t called Christy much either.”

“And that’s supposed to make me feel better?”

“Yes. She’s my first and last call of the day.”

Silence. I’m guilting her and being a shit about it. She knows she hasn’t been there for me since her life hiatus.

“How is it there?”

“It’s fine.”

“You know I hate that word.”

“So far Roman is predictably absent. I really have no idea what you saw in him.”

“It was a long time ago. A different life,” her tone is somber, and I wonder if I’ll ever understand how my existence came to be.

“You two are nothing, and I mean nothing, alike. How are you feeling?”

“Fine.” I can hear the smile in her voice.

“Oh, shut up.”

We share a laugh, and after it dies, her lingering silence puts me on edge. “Mom, you okay?”

“Does he talk about me?”

“No. We don’t even discuss the weather. Why?”

“I just don’t want him saying negative things about me.”

“I wouldn’t believe him anyway. He’s not the one who raised me.”

I hear her sigh. “That makes me feel better, I guess.”

“You sure you’re okay?”

“Yeah. I hate that you’re there. I feel like I failed you.”

“It was a spell. You’re entitled to have one. We all are now and then, right?”

“Right. But if you hate it there—”

“I don’t. I’m keeping to myself. It’s like staying at an employee-free resort. I can handle this.”

“You sure?”

For you, I can. That’s what I want to say. “I’m sure.”

“I love you, kid.”