Free The Good Sister: Part One by London Saint James Page A

out of the rubble in my place.
    On Friday afternoon I went to the main house to meet Mrs. Addison. A large pile of telephone files sat, waiting for me.
    “Trinity,” Mrs. Addison greeted. I perused the stack of files. “I know it looks overwhelming, but keep in mind I’m looking for one phone number, not a bunch of random information, so our search is narrowed.”
    I took a seat at the table. Pulled up a file box. “Okay.”
    “I want you to highlight this phone number,” Mrs. Addison said. She handed me a yellow highlighter and a piece of paper with a phone number written on it. “Every time you find this phone number I want you to mark it, highlighting the time and the date of the call.”
    “Sure,” I said.
    “I have another meeting in the city. Will you be okay?”
    “I’m fine.”
    “Remember to stop and take a break every so often. And don’t feel like have to get through all of the files today.”
    “Okay.”
    “And thank you for your help, Trinity. I do appreciate it.”
    “Mrs. Addison—”
    “Please, call me Gwyneth.”
    I had a hard time calling Reid’s mother Gwyneth. Nonetheless I took in a large breath then exhaled.
    “Gwyneth,” I said. “I should be the one thanking you.”
    ****
    Monday. It was the beginning of the week. Reid would be sending a postcard or a picture so I wanted to be the one to intercept the mail. I showered quickly, pulled my hair back off my face, restraining the wild curls into a clip, put on one T-shirt instead of my standard two, and headed out the door of my house. My focus remained on the long drive in front of the estate.
    “Trinity, love, where are you going?” my mother called out.
    “I’m going to get the mail.”
    I made it past the halfway point when my hands started to shake. The edges of my vision began to shimmer with that distinctive onslaught of panic closing in. My mouth went dry like I had eaten cotton. My breath increased along with the rapid secession of my heartbeat. The palms of my hands broke out into a clammy sweat. I was forced to stop. I closed my eyes, trying to gain my breath.
    I pictured Reid standing at the end of the drive. I visualized his face, his smiling face. I saw him call out to me, hand extended, waiting. Using that visual as motivation, I placed one shaky leg out then allowed my foot to hit the ground. I placed my next leg out and found to my surprise I moved three more steps. I froze again when the massive iron gate, the street, and the large rock post that held the mail box came into view. I closed my eyes. If I wanted Reid I was going to have to do better than this. You want Reid, so stop being such a scaredy cat. I placed one foot in front of the other, walking a wobbly line.
    My hands were shaking like a leaf as they came out in front of me. I grabbed hold of the rock post. Held on as my body swayed. I wondered if I were on a ship and needed to gain my sea legs. I took in a breath then steadied before punching the security code into the pad. I knew this would unlock the gate, but the buzz startled me for a moment. As the gate rolled back it gave me access to the outside world. I felt a lump in my throat. I’d made it to the end of the driveway. The street was within my view. I flipped open the mailbox door, pulled the mail out, a dozen or so envelopes and a small brown box, then shut the door. I’d actually done it. I lifted my chin upward to feel the sun on my face.
    I turned, hit the security pad, and closed the gate. Someone honked a car horn. I jumped, let out a piercing screech of a scream, and ran full speed up the driveway as if the devil himself was on my tail. I was out of breath, clutching to the mail, but I had done it. No matter if I was screaming like a crazy person as I ran back up the drive. No matter if I was sweating like a pig or shaking like a leaf, I had done it. No one could take my accomplishment away.
    I stopped running when I saw my mother. She hugged me. When the rigidity kicked in and I