Facade Read Online Free PDF Page A

voice to work. “Here’s your food. Do you need anything else?” I set the plate in front of him.
    Adrian closes his book and raises his eyebrows. “Are you offering?”
    I want to say something to him, to tell him that’s disgusting, but when your dad kills a member of someone else’s family, it’s a little hard to be mean to them.
    “Water?” I ask.
    “Space,” he replies, and I wonder if that might be the most honest thing he’s said to me. There’s no malice in his voice. No flirtation either, only truth.
    “Sure… anything. Just get my attention if you need me.” It’s not the best thing to say. I know I should be going to his table to make sure everything is okay, but I won’t. Not unless he calls me over. It’s the least I can do, really.
    For the next two hours I go about my business. Pretend it matters that I’m sweeping the floor, filling the sugar containers. Adrian eats, pushes his plate away, and then alternates between
The Count
and scribbling in his notebook. I wonder what he’s writing but know I don’t have a right.
    I came here for him, but I don’t have a plan. For some reason, I don’t think it would work to sit down and tell him I’m sorry. That I hate what my father did and I hate what Adrian’s family lost and that I would do anything,
anything
to make it go away.
    I did it before with his sister, but that was different. One look at me and she’d known. She’d known who I was and we sat down and cried as I told her I was sorry.
    She said she didn’t hate me, that it wasn’t my fault. I told her she lost more than I ever did, so she asked what I lost too. We talked about my mom and the gambling debts, which led to depression and suicide attempts.
    And that’s when she told me about her brother. That she hadn’t just lost Ashton, this beautiful little boy, but two members of her family. Adrian too. He’d never been able to handle things well, and he’d disappeared right after Ashton died.
    The private investigator found him only a couple hours away in Brenton, she’d said offhandedly. The pain in her eyes when she told me she couldn’t go to him ripped me apart. But she knew him and said you couldn’t push Adrian; otherwise he’d run again. At least this way she knew he was safe.
    And here I am, trying to push him. Trying to dig up his past just so I can try and give myself a better future. I’ve never felt so selfish in my life. I want to vomit. Tears sting my eyes and I remember how Mom used to tell me a good cry could be cathartic. Now she just takes pills or puts a razor to her wrists.
    Suddenly, I don’t know if I can do this. Don’t know if I can do any of it. What was I thinking, coming here? Trying to dredge up his past the way I want to. It’s not okay. Not fair. Maddox was right.
    I think about how small Mom looked in that hospital bed. Maybe we deserve it. Maddox seems to think he does. Maybe it’s all our faults for trusting in Dad or sticking by his side before we knew how bad things were. For not looking into his lies and treasuring the time he was home.
    Maybe we’re supposed to continue living with it.
    Adrian stands but doesn’t look at me. I never gave him his ticket, but right now, I don’t care. I’ll cover it and pretend he paid. Whatever I have to do to make this right.
    He stuffs his book in the pocket of his black hoodie. The other pocket belongs to his spiral notebook. Without a glance in my direction, he walks out. I wait until the headlights swing across the wall before I walk to his table.
    There’s a twenty-dollar bill and a single piece of paper. The paper trembles, an extension of my hand.
    Space
,
    I asked.
    She agreed.
    It wasn’t what caught my attention.
    Her eyes.
    Me too,
    They seemed to say,
    I need space too
    Thank you
    I fall into his seat. Clutch the paper to my chest. And cry.
    * * *
    I get off work at 6:00 a.m. and head to the little apartment my brother and I are sharing. I guess that’s the good thing about not