Chapter Eight

 My cell phone rings in the middle of the night, but I pretend I don't hear it. I need my parents witnessing how surprised I act, when I get the news. I need somebody to believe I didn't do it. I know that Dixon will still call me to tell me the passing of his father. I know how distraught he'll be, and I have to put on my best acting skills to play along.

Just moments after my cell phone rings, I hear the house phones buzzing through the house, and my dad's wobbly feet plopping on the floor answer it.

"Hello?" I hear him answer the phone as I walk down the stairs.

I tiptoe into the kitchen, rubbing my eyes and stretching, pretending like I just woke up.

"Dixon, it's 2am." My father shook his head as he spoke the words.

It felt weird knowing why he called and had to keep it all bottled up inside. 

"But it's important," I hear him say as he passed me the phone.

"Hannah, something terrible has happened here." I heard the shakiness in his voice, but I also heard Lynn crying, which brought my heart so much enjoyment I can't even explain. 

"Kelvin, is he okay?" I feel the fake tears swirling in my eyes. 

"It's my dad, he has been murdered." 

"What?" 

"I just don't understand." Hearing him cry surprisingly didn't affect me. How many nights has he heard me cry about the mental abuse and stood by and did absolutely nothing? 

"I am sorry. I don't know what to say." 

"I know, something I didn't think would ever happen, just happened."

"Tell Lynn I am sorry for her loss."

"Thanks Hannah." 

The next couple mornings I see the murder on the news. I love how the neighborhood are terrified. To my surprise, so far nobody has reported anything out of the ordinary. I know eventually somebody will, and I'll have to cross that bridge. Hopefully not too soon. 

Are you coming to the funeral? I read Dixon's text. 

Imagine that murderer at the funeral. As hilarious as that would be, I know how uncomfortable I would be there. 

No, sorry I can't. I sent the words. I want to be there to support him, but I don't want to be there, and rumors spread again. 

This whole thing has made me think about life. His next message read. 

Oh yeah. I text back. 

I let you go easily. And shouldn't have. I read his words with no emotion. There's no going back now. He watched me lose my son wrongly, and watched her fill his head with lies, and never even stepped in. 

I put my phone away, having nothing to say back. 

Hours pass, and I find myself sitting outside enjoying the sunshine as it warms my face. Closing my eyes, I keep replying last night in my head. And it's hearing Lynn's one little cry in pain that made it all worth wild. I bet she's miserable right now, and that little thought brings me the most happiness I felt in days.