Chapter 4: Sarah

Randi's nostrils flared, and she looked like a horse ready to paw at the ground.

I wanted to nail her down with one final comeback. I wanted to end this exchange and put her in her place. But more than anything, I wanted my little sister to see what she'd done wrong. For once, she needed to admit the error of her ways. But she was far too stubborn ever to give me that satisfaction. She always bested me in the end. Randi stayed one step ahead, regardless of how hard I fought to keep her in line. That bullheaded streak was as wide as a river, and there was nothing Daddy or I could do to take it out of her.

"You're grounded." The words tumbled out, and the weight they held went with them. It was a suitable punishment if it stuck. "You can go to cheer camp. That's it. There's plenty to do around here."

Her mouth fell open, and I felt an unsatisfying surge of victory. Not even the smile that lifted the corners of my mouth created a sense of satisfaction. There should have been far more joy in knowing I'd won the war.

She just looked so ridiculous with her flushed face and her jaw hanging open like a big-mouth bass. "For how long?"

I allowed myself a tiny shrug when I clasped my hands in front of me. Randi thought I took pleasure in disciplining her, but the truth was, I had to twine my fingers to keep her from seeing them shake. "Two weeks should make my point."

"Not happening," she muttered and pushed her way past me.

I called out just as she reached the bottom of the steps. "Don't test me on this, Miranda. I've already talked to Daddy." It felt a bit ridiculous pulling that card. We were both grown women-although one of us was a tad more mature than the other-and I shouldn't have to.

But Miranda forced my hand. She might not listen to me, but she wouldn't cross Daddy-ever. Whether or not I had actually spoken to him, all I had to do was mention his name, and it instantly made my life a little bit easier.

Her shoulders sagged as the wind left her verbose sails. "Whatever."

She stomped up the steps like a toddler pitching a tantrum; only, this child was my eighteen-year-old sister. But then again, it was Miranda. And I wasn't at all surprised by the way she acted. Seconds later, Randi slammed her bedroom door just to make sure everyone on the ranch and in the house knew exactly how unhappy she was. And while I didn't care to listen to her pout and throw things for the next two hours, at least I knew I'd made my point. It was bittersweet.

I made my way to the second floor and down to my room. I needed to allow myself time to cool down before I went back outside to work. It was hot and incredibly humid. I had closed the curtains over my windows, but that did little to keep the heat at bay. My covers were cool, however. My bed was tucked into a corner and cast in shadows no matter the hour of the day. I sighed and sank down onto the edge of the bed, putting my face in my hands to massage my temples.

I gave myself a few minutes to close my eyes and relax. There was stuff that needed to be done around the ranch, but the heat was so oppressive that all I could find the energy to do was lie down. We hadn't seen a heatwave like this one in years. The air conditioner couldn't keep up in our old farmhouse, and the only time it was bearable, inside or out, was after dark.

My clothes clung to my sticky skin when I laid back on the bed, and my eyes swirled with the rotation of the fan overhead. The hypnotic spin coupled with the heat had my lids drifting closed in a short amount of time, and I allowed sleep to creep in.

What I'd intended only to be a few minutes turned into a couple of hours. I woke with a start and glanced at the clock on my nightstand. And then I realized what had brought me to consciousness so quickly. I scrambled to my feet and opened my bedroom door just as Miranda slammed hers behind her. She had a head start, and I wasn't going to be fast enough to catch her, but that didn't mean I wouldn't try.

"Miranda!" My voice rang out down the hall, but I might as well have whispered because Randi didn't stop.

Her flipflops clapped on the hardwoods beneath her feet with each step she took, and when she rounded the corner to the stairs, her dark hair flashing as it whipped behind her.

Heat fanned my face, but I couldn't tell if it was from my growing anger or the deadly temperatures in south Texas.

My sister took the steps two at a time, and I knew if I didn't catch her before she made it out the front door that I wasn't going to. I hated this cat and mouse game the two of us played. It wasn't fair to her or me. I had never wanted the role of surrogate mother any more than Miranda wanted me to have it. In my mid-twenties, I should be starting my own life, not picking up the pieces of the one Mama had left behind.

"Get back here, young lady." I sounded just like our mom had years ago, and it made me cringe. But I couldn't help myself. I wouldn't have to step in to fill that role that both of us needed to have filled if Miranda weren't so keen on acting like a child.

With every step my feet landed on, I was reminded of just how backward all of this was. Daddy should be chasing his daughter down. He should be doing the disciplining. But even if Randi wouldn't admit it, she needed me in this role. The problem was she needed me to be her sister, too. And I just wasn't cut out to be both. It wasn't possible. Mothers disciplined; sisters conspired.

If I were just her sister, I could encourage her to go out, have a good time. Defy the rules. Be with her boyfriend. I could help her sneak out, take her places she was too young to go, confide in her, share secrets with her. Despite how much I wanted that relationship with my little sister, we'd had that stolen from us the day Mama left us alone with a man who wasn't designed to be a single father of two girls.

Without so much as a glance over her shoulder, Randi grabbed the handle and flung open the door just as Austin's truck entered the circular drive in front of our house. Her friends shouted words of encouragement, and someone let the passenger door fly open. Randi leaped from the top step on the porch to the gravel drive below, took two steps, and reached out to grab her best friend's hand. The truck never slowed down, the kids only got louder, and Randi believed she'd won as she hung her head out of the window after closing the door. A wicked grin parted her lips, and her hair whipped around her cheeks.

I hollered her name one last time, but it was pointless. At the top of the front stoop, I watched my sister defy me with glee. My chest heaved from racing from my room to the porch, and I was so mad I could spit nails. And in that moment, with her friends hurling childish insults and my sister proud of what she'd done, I snapped.

Miranda Adams had gone too far this time.

Not only had she disobeyed me, but she'd defied Daddy, and I, for one, was tired of her immature antics.

My fists were so tightly clenched at my side that my nails broke through the skin in my palm, but I didn't notice until I grabbed my keys from the bowl by the door. I wiped the smattering of blood on my jean shorts and stomped out to my car. There was only one place Randi and her friends would go, and if I had to follow her there and make a scene, then that's what I planned to do. She'd be mortified, but it served her right.

The steering wheel was scalding hot, and I'd swear I heard the blood on my hands sizzle, but that might have just been my anger bubbling over. I rolled down the windows until the air conditioner had a chance to kick in and barreled down our long, gravel driveway. The crunch of the rocks under the tires normally soothed me, but today they were like grit in my eye and nothing more than an irritant that kept me from proceeding at the speed I preferred.

The wind did its best to rip at my ponytail, and the sun tried to blind me. The long, country road to the lake spread out ahead, and the heat shimmer created a mirage on the asphalt. I pulled down the visor to stop the light from directly hitting my pupils; those bright golden beams were just enough to obstruct my vision.

And then my world shattered.

I wasn't sure which happened first, or maybe it all happened simultaneously. Shards of glass rained on my arms and legs and lap and nicked at my cheeks, imbedding themselves beneath the skin. The whoosh of multiple airbags deploying rushed my ears just before the seatbelt locked, and I was pinned against the seat.

Everything hurt from my head to my toes, so much so that I couldn't identify where one ache started and another began. Each movement caused unfathomable pain, all while the smell of gasoline and an electrical fire singed my nostrils. I had to get free, but despite my best effort, there wasn't a single muscle I could move successfully. Either, I was pinned or paralyzed; I couldn't decide which.

Darkness crept along the edges of my vision as panic set in. I had to get out, but I couldn't formulate a complete thought much less escape. I didn't know what I'd hit or even if the car was upright. Based on the way my head spun and weight pressed on my shoulders, I had to be upside down. The strap across my chest pulled so tightly there was no other explanation, but it might have been my imagination.

I hung in some surreal dimension that had to be just short of hell. My ears rang, and a horn blared non-stop on top of the white noise I couldn't silence. Smoke billowed from somewhere, but I couldn't see beyond the crumpled metal to know if it came from the engine. I fought like crazy to pry my lids open, to stay alert.

But the darkness came in like a thief in the night, blotting out more and more of my vision until all that remained were silvery spheres that glimmered like bubbles. Just as my eyes closed, a piercing cry floated around me. It could have been a scream for help or someone writhing in pain. I wanted to holler, yell for someone to save me from this agony, but my tongue grew thick.

And then everything went black.