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“Excuse me,” a female customer says in a nasty tone, leaning over the counter. “You just picked that up off the floor, and now you’re filling it with ice cream? Are you serious right now?!”

Shaking my head, I throw it in the trash and grab a new one from a stack of smaller sizes. “I’m s-so s-sorry,” I stammer, on the verge of tears. “You’re r-right.”

“Do you people even clean this place?” the man continues, his tone getting angrier. “Where is the manager?”

I look over my right shoulder at him. “She’s not here right now,” I answer, my voice hoarse.

He shakes his head like maybe he thinks I’m lying. “I want to speak to the manager. You could have just given one of our kids ice cream in a dish that was on the floor.”

“You want to eat, little girl? Get on your knees and eat it off the floor.”

I try to fill the cone with ice cream, but the man’s voice stops me from doing anything. My ears start to ring a little, my face burns, and the room feels like it’s suddenly a thousand degrees. The screaming kids are getting louder. The other adults waiting give me dirty looks.

“I’m sorry. It was an accident…” My voice trembles uncontrollably. My mind goes blank. I can’t remember what he wants or what I’m doing here. Where am I? Terror seizes me like a vise.

Once upon a time, there was a beautiful princess…

My eyes clamp shut, the memorized words playing out in my mind, soothing me, taking me back. Yes. Please take me away from here. To the castle, or the cottage in the forest with butterflies and singing birds, blue skies, and fluffy clouds.

I try to focus, clear my mind of all the noise—out here and in my head—but I can’t remember my breathing exercises.

“What the hell is wrong with you? Are you on drugs? Hey!” he shouts. “Are you even listening to me?”

I can’t move. The edge of my vision grows dark, and the voices of the children and the adults yelling become distant and distorted.

I fall—deep into the only place I feel safe—once again.

The brightest of lights shines in my face. I think I’m dead. I must have died in the ice cream shop. Maybe that angry man killed me.

“Holly?”

I turn toward the voice to see my brother’s girlfriend. “Anna? What happened? Where am I? Are we dead?”

Her face looms over mine. “No, silly, you’re not dead.” She gives me a quick smile meant to be comforting. “You’re in the emergency room. You passed out at work, and one of the customers called an ambulance. You hit your head.”

“Oh.” I lift my hand to examine my head and find a large bump and a sore spot right in the front. The memories of lying on the floor with the ice cream dishes and the ride in the ambulance rush back to me. “I knocked over the dishes. Everyone was so mad.”

Worry stamps Anna’s face as she sits on the edge of the hospital bed and touches my hand. People always seem to be touching me, and while it still makes me uncomfortable, I’ve learned to tolerate it. Anna must have come from work because she’s wearing beige dress pants, high heels, and a silk blouse. Her dark hair is in a sleek ponytail. I’m not sure where she works, but it’s definitely not an ice cream.

“It’s okay, Holly. It was just a bad day, that’s all.” Her voice is reassuring, but her eyes betray her with their deepening concern. “Do you feel all right? I can call one of the nurses back.”

My chest heaves and my throat constricts as the memory of what happened in the ice cream shop comes back to me. I know I didn’t just faint. I had a meltdown and blacked out. It’s happened before—in the basement with the man, and at Merryfield during my first month. “I feel fine…but it’s really not okay, Anna. I freaked out, I think.” I shake my head, recalling the kids and the screaming and being alone in the shop with no help. And the angry man who wouldn’t stop yelling at me. “Too much was happening, the man was getting mad at me and I—”

“Slow down. Take a deep breath.” She takes one with me, breathing in and out. “It’s not your fault. You really shouldn’t have been alone there. It would be a lot for anyone to handle.”

“Am I in trouble?” I ask.

“No, not at all…but I did speak to the manager, and she thinks it’s best you not come back.” She squeezes my hand tighter between both of hers and leans closer to me like she’s going to tell me a secret. “It’s probably for the best. I’m not sure that was the ideal job for you. I think something quieter would be better.” She looks at me hopefully. “If you come to New York with Zac and me, I’ll help you find a job that will be good for you. Like maybe in a small, cozy bookstore. You love books, right?”