Free One Past Midnight by Jessica Shirvington Page A

wasn’t actually causing me much trouble, but I figured the pain relief might help with my still-throbbing cuts.
    When I sat at the table, no one was talking. Mom stared at Dad like she was waiting for something, but Dad ignored her and readjusted his pale-blue tie. He insisted on wearing one every day. As if the tie alone could make him, make
us
, better somehow.
    The silence became uncomfortable.
    â€œWhat’s wrong?” I asked between mouthfuls of toast. Dad continued staring at the same piece of paper he’d been focused on since I’d walked into the room. Mom squirmed in her chair.
    â€œIt’s probably just a misunderstanding, sweetie.” She gave me a reassuring nod that didn’t match the concerned look in her eyes.
    â€œWhat is?” I put down my slice of toast, my cast clanking on the edge of my plate.
    Dad looked up at me from behind the sheet of paper. Something in his eyes—the way they looked at me, but didn’t
focus
on me—set off my internal alarms. “Denise called this morning. She did a random stock check before she closed up last night. On the prescription meds.” His glare intensified. “Is there something you want to tell us?”
    Oh.
    Shit.
    I thought I’d covered all bases. Normally inventory happened midweek, which would have given me a few days between working at the store and other casual staff taking shifts. It should’ve been impossible for the missing drugs to be traced back to me.
    Why the hell did Denise decide to . . . ?
    Then I remembered how I’d been too nervous to look around when Ethan handed me back the box of pills. Denise must have seen enough to be suspicious.
    I wasn’t ready for this.
    â€œSabine?” Dad snapped.
    I grabbed hold of my pendant, sliding the butterfly up and down the dainty silver chain, thinking fast.
    â€œI don’t know what you want me to say.”
    â€œYou could start with the truth,” Dad replied.
    I looked at Mom, holding her gaze as if I had nothing to hide. “About what?”
    Think, think, think!
    My mouth was so dry, my words were starting to stick.
    â€œAbout the box of heart medication that walked out of the store yesterday. They were only delivered in the morning and were gone by the afternoon. Apart from Denise, you and your mother were the only ones in the store with access.” Dad’s neck was getting red patches. He was starting to lose it, glaring at Mom like she should be doing something.
    Mom jumped in. “Sabine, I don’t know what you . . . Maybe you could explain—”
    But it wasn’t good enough for Dad and he cut her off. “It’s heart medication, Sabine!” He stood up, scraping the chair roughly across the floor. “What were you thinking? If you think you can get high on that stuff, you’re sorely mistaken! You would’ve had better luck in the cough medicine aisle!” He started pacing around the table.
    Eyes wide, I couldn’t think, couldn’t focus. Mom was reaching across the table to hold my hand, as if pleading for an explanation, something that could stop this runaway train. Problem was, my mind was drawing a blank.
    â€œI didn’t—”
    â€œDon’t even go there! We know it was you. Even
Denise
knows it was you! How do you think that makes us look?Having staff who know that our own daughter would steal from us? Did you even think about what people would say?”
    Dad’s foot snagged one of the straps of my bag and he stumbled, almost taking a nose-dive. It was the final straw. After regaining his balance, he grabbed my backpack and upended it on the table.
    I leaped up to stop him, but Mom’s previously comforting hand suddenly morphed into a viselike grip.
    It felt as if everything happened in slow motion. The contents of my bag spilled onto the table. Amid the stash of blood-soaked bandages sat a half-emptied box of pills and a box of extra-strength