Betraying Innocence Read Free Page A

biggie.”
    Mom’s heels scuffed a little on the strip of carpet running the length of the narrow hallway as she crossed to stand in front of Ana. She raised a hand and touched the tight braid down Ana’s back. The light brown strands matched the neatly styled coif of her mother’s shoulder-length helmet, but the gold highlights were more pronounced in Ana’s hair from hours in the sun, and her hair went down to the middle of her back.
    Her mom played with the elastic tied at the end. “I always forget how big you’ve gotten. Sometimes it feels like it kind of snuck up on me .” She smiled a little wistfully. “It was bound to happen I suppose. Doesn’t mean I like it.” She dropped the braid and peered into Ana’s green eyes. “I know we didn’t really ask you if you wanted to move here—”
    “Mom,” Ana interrupted . “It’s fine. I know how important this move was to Dad and … I can make new friends.” She tried not to wince or look directly into her mother’s eyes as the rehearsed lie slipped her lips. “The old ones were getting kind of old anyway.”
    Her attempt at humor was met with pursed lips and narrowed eyes. “Don’t downplay it. I know how much this hurt you.”
    The floorboard under Ana’s feet gave a low groan when she shifted her feet. She jerked a shoulder. “Whatever. It’s not a big deal.”
    Her mother exhaled, placing a hand on Ana’s shoulder. “You’re a good kid, Ana.”
    Ana said nothing for a moment, and then asked, “So, are you guys leaving tomorrow?”
    Mom’s hand fell away, leaving the spot she’d touched chilled by the sudden exposure of air. “Yes, but,” she added quickly as if afraid Ana would protest, “your father has promised to return Wednesday, and I’ll be home on Friday. So you’ll only be alone for the one night. Is that okay?”
    No, but what choice did she have?
    “Yeah. Fine.”

    Tap. Tap. Tap.
    Ana shifted in bed. Fabric rustled as she drew the sheets higher up around her shoulders. The chill in the air against her skin had her curling onto her side, drawing her knees up to her chest. Weeks of packing, lifting, moving and then moving again and unpacking pushed against her, willing her not to rouse from the warm cocoon of sleep.
    Tap. Tap. Tap.
    She stirred again. “Mitzy, knock it off,” she grumbled into her pillow.
    At the foot of the bed, the cat mewled his indignation. Ana blinked into the thick darkness pooling through the unfamiliar room. The red letters on her digital clock winked back at her, marking the hour precisely at three in the morning.
    Ana groaned. She dragged the sheets up over her ears. She shut her eyes.
    Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap. BANG!
    Something slammed into the wall outside her door. Ana bolted upright. Fear coiled in the pit of her stomach, rendering her mouth dry. Her hands shook as she reached for the lamp. She flicked the switch. Nothing. She flicked it again. Trembling, she scrambled onto her knees and dragged the lamp closer. She snapped the switch again and again. Darkness continued to blind her, swathing her in icy terror.
    “Dad? Mom?” she called, hoping it was only one of them making their way to the bathroom.
    A heavy silence pushed against her. Sweat slicked her palm as she yanked on the cord. Her breath panted as the end came into her hand, unplugged.
    Cursing, she dropped it and lunged off the bed.
    “Dad?”
    The icy floorboards burned beneath her bare feet as she scrambled across the room to the light switch. She flipped it on with a violent sweep of her hand.
    The same chilling silence thrummed around her, shattered only by the drum of her frightened heart. Her limbs trembled as she strained all her senses, listening. A scream sat wedged on her tongue, just waiting for the slightest noise to be released.
    But when minutes ticked by and nothing happened, Ana began to wonder if she’d imagined the noise. If she had maybe dreamt it. It’s the only possible explanation , she thought,