41. All We Do is Talk

In the morning, I’m woken by knocks on my door. Heavy fast ones, that indicate that whoever is out there has been trying to rouse me for a while now. My heartbeat accelerates even before my mother’s voice breaks through the barrier.

“Avery?”

I shoot up from bed immediately.

My mother never calls me Avery. It’s always Jo, and rarely Ava, but Avery?

Synonymous to trouble.

I reach for my phone, fumble, push it from the edge of the cabin and catch it just before it acquires its first series of cracks after one short week in my ownership. Fingers shaking, I unlock it.

Ten o’clock.

“Do not tell me she’s also not here!”

My mother’s raised voice cracks like a whip and it has me hurrying to the door.

“Coming!” I call, tur