Free Never Again by Michele Bardsley Page B

girl’s white apron with its still-bulging pockets and breathed in the food smells not even the rain had been able to wash away. “You didn’t change clothes.”
    “No time,” said Marcy. “It’s good we’re leaving. Nevermore’s . . .” She paused, apparently unable to come up with an appropriate adjective, and shrugged.
    “What about your mom?”
    “Cathleen,” Marcy hissed, “is not my mother—even though she insists I call her ‘mama.’ She likes to remind me that she raised me, but she didn’t. She married Daddy when I was ten. He went and died four years later and left her the café. Her! She’s not even a real Munch!” She blew out a breath and pushed back her wet hair. “My family has owned the café since the town was founded. It’s horrible! I’d change everything. If Daddy had just trusted me . . . but I guess he didn’t think he’d die. Who does, right?”
    “How do you know he didn’t trust you?” asked Lucinda.
    Marcy slanted her a look of disbelief. “Because I don’t own the café. Maybe if I’d been older, he would’ve changed his will.”
    Lucinda wondered if the café was supposed to belong to Marcy and her stepmother finagled control of it. What business was it of hers, anyway? She wasn’t a resident of Nevermore. And two hours in a place didn’t make her an expert on it, or the people who lived there. Still. She couldn’t dismiss that someone had used Marcy’s face as a punching bag.
    “Who hit you?” Lucinda asked again.
    “Doesn’t matter.” Marcy’s expression turned mulish. “It won’t happen again, anyway. I’m leaving. Mexico will be different. It’s safe there.”
    “Depends on your definition of safe,” offered Lucinda.
    “Why are you going there?” asked Marcy, her tone defensive.
    “To escape my ex-lover.”
    “Oh.” She chewed her lower lip. “He’s a magical, too?”
    “House of Ravens. A real asshole.”
    “Wow.”
    “Yeah.” Lucinda turned to look out the passenger’s-side window. “When I get in trouble, I go big. All the way.”
    Both women said nothing else, lost in their own thoughts. The buzzing noise of the car engine and the rain plinking against the windows filled up the silence. It seemed like the road stretched into infinity, an effect only reinforced by the overcast sky—and it was already dusk. Since there were no lights on this road, only the yellow glare of the VW’s headlights broke through the encroaching black.
    Lucinda felt unnerved. The storm coupled with the increasing darkness, not to mention the lonely road and her distressed companion, made Lucinda feel like she was trapped in a horror movie. In a scene right before the monster lunged, or the car crashed, or the—
    Shut it! Nothing bad will happen, she thought sternly.
    “Highway’s just a few more miles,” said Marcy. She flashed an uneasy smile. “It can get really creepy around here, especially at night.”
    Lucinda felt the car lurch as it accelerated. She grimaced. “Maybe going faster is a bad idea.”
    “We gotta make the highway before the sun sets.”
    “Why?”
    “Bad things happen. That’s the truth of it, everywhere. Bad things always hide in the dark.” She sucked in a breath. “Anyway. Even though this is all farmland, we’re still technically in Nevermore.” Marcy had a white-knuckled grip on the steering wheel. “The boundary ends at the highway. Once we’re on it, we’ll be safe.”
    Lucinda turned in her seat and stared at Marcy. The green lights from the dashboard highlighted the girl’s pale face and worried expression. Foreboding crept up Lucinda’s spine like a wave of tiny spiders. “Safe from what?”
    “Shit!” Marcy slammed on the brakes. The car skidded on the slick road, fishtailing.
    Lucinda was thrown forward, the seat belt locking so hard it knocked the breath from her, and then she was thrust back, her skull bouncing off the headrest. Little white stars danced before her eyes, and her chest throbbed with