Page 37 of Justice II

I enlarged the picture so I could see her face better.

God, I wanted my mother. I wanted to call her and tell her about Justice. I needed to tell somebody how much it hurt to have him look at me like he couldn't stand me. I had fallen in love with him and his family. Now I wasn't welcome in their house.

A tear rolled down my face and onto the pillow.

My parents had died in a house fire a year after Roman and I got married. The investigator told me the smoke had gotten to them before the flames. He said they probably never woke up. I had held on to that because I couldn't handle thinking about them being afraid or calling for help that didn't come.

I missed them so much. If Mama were here, I would've packed my things and gone straight to her. Maybe I wouldn’t have even ever met Justice. Once I was out of prison I could’ve run straight to them.

I wanted to be with them. I wanted to lie down in my old room and hear them moving around the house.

Instead, I was in my best friend's guest room trying not to cry loud enough to wake her family.

I put the phone facedown and turned onto my side. I had an interview at nine. Staying up all night wasn't going to help me get through it.

Eventually, I fell asleep.

When my alarm went off, I reached for the phone without opening my eyes. Something sweet was coming from downstairs. I could smell butter, but the cinnamon was so strong it seemed to be right beside the bed.

My stomach twisted and turned like I was on a roller-coaster.

I sat up, swallowing hard as I pushed the comforter away. By the time my feet hit the cold floor, I knew I wasn't going to make it through the morning without throwing up.

“Shit.”

I hurried into the bathroom and barely got the toilet lid up in time.

There wasn't anything in my stomach since I hadn't eaten a real meal the night before. However, my body kept trying to bring something up. I held my hair back with one hand and gripped the side of the toilet with the other.

Aubrey knocked while I was still bent over.

“Mel? You okay?” I could hear the concern.

“Give me a minute.”

My voice sounded terrible. The acid had already made me sound hoarse. She then opened the door and stopped when she saw me.

“Oh, girl. What's wrong?”

“I don't know.” I sat back and wiped my mouth with some tissue. “What are you making?”

“Cinnamon rolls. Chase asked me to warm them up for breakfast.”

“That smell made me nauseous.”

“Damn girl, it’s the stress from everything. I have some ginger but first let me get you a cold rag.”

She wet a rag and crouched beside me while I pressed it against my forehead.

“Did you eat anything after I went to bed?”

“No.”

“You barely ate before I went to bed, either.”

“I know.”

“I'll turn on the vent downstairs. Maybe open a window.”