Free The Last Song by Nicholas Sparks

morning? In the summer ?
    She plopped back down, only to find herself staring at the ceiling, already knowing that sleep was out of the question. Not with the sun shooting daggers through the windows. Not with her father already hammering on the piano in the living room. As she suddenly remembered what had happened last night, the anger she felt at what her father had done resurfaced.
    Welcome to another day in paradise.
    Outside the window, she heard the distant roar of engines. She rose from the bed and pulled aside the curtain, only to jump back, startled at the sight of a raccoon sitting atop a torn bag of garbage. While the strewn garbage was gross, the raccoon was cute, and she tapped the glass, trying to get its attention.
    It was only then that she noticed the bars on the window.
    Bars. On. The. Window.
    Trapped.
    Gritting her teeth, she whirled around and marched into the living room. Jonah was watching cartoons and eating a bowl of cereal; her dad glanced up but continued to play.
    She put her hands on her hips, waiting for him to stop. He didn’t. She noticed that the picture she’d thrown was back in place atop the piano, albeit without the glass.
    “You can’t keep me locked up all summer,” she said. “It’s not going to happen.”
    Her dad glanced up, though he continued to play. “What are you talking about?”
    “You put bars on the window! Like I’m supposed to be your prisoner?”
    Jonah continued to watch the cartoon. “I told you she’d be mad,” he commented.
    Steve shook his head, his hands continuing to move across the keyboard. “I didn’t put them up. They came with the house.”
    “I don’t believe you.”
    “They did,” Jonah said. “To protect the art.”
    “I’m not talking to you, Jonah!” She turned back to her dad. “Let’s get one thing straight. You’re not going to spend this summer treating me like I’m still a little girl! I’m eighteen years old!”
    “You won’t be eighteen until August twentieth,” Jonah said behind her.
    “Would you please stay out of this!” She whirled around to face him. “This is between me and Dad.”
    Jonah frowned. “But you’re not eighteen yet.”
    “That’s not the point!”
    “I thought you forgot.”
    “I didn’t forget! I’m not stupid.”
    “But you said—”
    “Would you just shut up for a second?” she said, unable to hide her exasperation. She swiveled her gaze back to her dad, who’d continued to play, never missing a note. “What you did last night was…” She stopped, unable to put all that was going on, all that had happened, into words. “I’m old enough to make my own decisions. Don’t you get that? You gave up the right to tell me what to do when you walked out the door. And would you please listen to me!”
    Abruptly, her dad stopped playing.
    “I don’t like this little game you’re playing.”
    He seemed confused. “What game?”
    “This! Playing the piano every minute I’m here! I don’t care how much you want me to play! I’m never going to play the piano again! Especially not for you!”
    “Okay.”
    She waited for more, but there was nothing.
    “That’s it?” she asked. “That’s all you’re going to say?”
    Her dad seemed to debate how to answer. “Do you want breakfast? I made some bacon.”
    “Bacon?” she demanded. “You made bacon ?”
    “Uh-oh,” Jonah said.
    Her dad glanced at Jonah.
    “She’s a vegetarian, Dad,” he explained.
    “Really?” he asked.
    Jonah answered for her. “For three years. But she’s weird sometimes, so it makes sense.”
    Ronnie stared at them in amazement, wondering how the conversation had been hijacked. This wasn’t about bacon, this was about what happened last night. “Let’s get one thing straight,” she said. “If you ever send the police to bring me home again, I won’t just refuse to play the piano. I won’t just go home. I’ll never, ever speak to you again. And if you don’t believe me, try me. I’ve already