The Illusion of Annabella by Jessica Sorensen Page B

mother, the guilt I feel for feeling the anger. The guilt I feel for not telling my dad. That’s what I came here to do.
     
    “Want to do something?” Miller asks, playing with the hem of my shirt.
     
    I know what he wants from me, but I still can’t seem to give it to him.
     
    I bob my head up and down. “Yeah, let’s go somewhere . . . Do something . . . Live a little . . .”
     
    “But it’s raining outside.”
     
    “So what?” I sit up and rub my eyes. “A little rain never hurt anyone.”
     
    Liar . Rain can do a lot of damage.
     
    Miller unenthusiastically looks at the window. “Actually, if you’re down for a little adventure, I might know of something we could do. You’d have to be up for anything, though. And I mean anything, Anna. None of that girly bullshit where you back out when things get sketchy. ”
     
    I’ve spent enough time with Miller to understand what the look in his eyes means. He wants to get into trouble, walk the line of danger. The old Anna, the good girl her parents raised, the one who worshipped her mother, would’ve run away.
     
    Lightning zaps across the sky, thunder grumbles, and the rain suddenly picks up, as thick as the day of the accident. The day seemed so sunny, everything so crystal clear, until the rain came and washed that life away in an instant.
     
    “Let’s go then.” Lightheaded and dizzy, I stagger to my feet.
     
    Miller places a hand on my arm to steady me. “Wait. Don’t you want to hear what we’re doing?”
     
    I weave around the dirty clothes on the floor. “I really don’t care.”All I know is that I want the fading numbness to return to my body, and I’ll do just about anything to get it back.
     
    He grins as he tosses me a hoodie. “All right. I like this side of you. Dangerous Anna,” he ponders as he taps his finger against his lips. “It has a nice ring to it.
     
    “It does?” I lean against the doorframe while I put the jacket on.
     
    “Yeah, sure.” He grins, meeting my gaze. “Let’s go.”
     
    On our way out, Miller grabs his car keys from the coffee table and tells Big Jay we’ll be back later. He offers me the rest of his drink before we head out, and even though I already feel woozy, I guzzle it down.
     
    Outside, rain puddles the pavement, the sky is darker than it was when I walked here, and the temperature has plummeted. I draw my hoodie up and move as quickly as I can toward Miller’s truck that has more rust than paint. He jogs ahead of me, his boots splashing through the puddles, and opens the door.
     
    I heave myself inside, close the door, then watch the rain stream down the windshield. Memories surface—the sound of metal crushing, screams, my dad looking at me as if waiting for me to tell him the truth. My gut clenches. I should have just told him.
     
    “You ready for this?” Miller asks as he slams the door.
     
    I jerk from the memories, craving whatever break lies ahead. “Yep. I’m ready for anything.”
     
    Miller chats on his phone with one of his buddies for half the drive, and I only pick up on fragments of his conversation. He keeps mentioning a house on Fairfield Lane, a street on the richer, more lavish side of town.
     
    “So, you know the other day when Big Jay and I were talking about trying to find a way to get some extra cash,” Miller says after he hangs up. “You remember Jeremy, right?” he asks, and I nod, even though I don’t. “He found out about this house on Fairfield that’s been vacant for, like, a month.”
     
    “So no one lives there?”
     
    “No, someone lives there. They’ve just been gone for a month. And they don’t even have an alarm system.” He snickers. “What a bunch of stupid fucks. Seriously.”
     
    I scrape at my black fingernail polish, pretending to be more blasé that I really am. “Are you planning to break in or something?”
     
    He flashes me a devious grin. “That’s exactly what I plan on doing.”
     
    Even though I don’t