Chapter 12
Cinder, sitting at the kitchen table in the guest house in Brentwood, watched Casey play a handheld video game. His innocent unknowingness of lurking darkness. Her gaze turned long distance. Several football fields zombie-eyed. Far away. Thoughts deep down. Then rising. And rising. Pulling back in, she looked at the laptop in front of her on the table. In her hand was the piece of paper. She opened it. Again.
Call me to meet. He’s planning m*********r.
Cinder folded the paper, clutched it in one hand, rubbing her neck with the other. Rubbed her jaw. Have I been grinding my teeth again?
Zing zing. Casey’s game knifed the quiet. Cinder jerked her head back, snapped around towards Casey.
“Why don’t you read a book?” Cinder said.
“This is way more fun, Mom,” Casey said, a what
