I don't own it, you know.
Family quarrels are bitter things. They don't go by any rules. They're not like aches or wounds; they're more like splits in the skin that won't heal because there's not enough material. F. Scott Fitzgerald
Life continued. How could that have happened? Louis thought that the entire world should have stopped. Didn't they know that his dad was out of jail? Didn't they know that he wanted to kill Louis?
Actually, nobody knew that somebody wanted to kill Louis. He hadn't told the Millers anything about what his father had said that night. Anything about the blows raining down on him or the fire. About being dragged out of there and put in a hospital. They might understand if he told them.
Then again, they might not.
Louis could not go back to being treated differently. Being talked to like he was an invalid. Less then human. He'd been through seven years of that when he made the mistake of telling people about his past.
So now he didn't say anything about it.
Activities came and went and the small hodge-podge family was the same. Louis felt eyes on him every once in a while. Scrutinizing him more then the others when he walked in the door. But it wasn't anything big, and they never mentioned his father again until a week after he'd gotten the letter.
"Louis." He looked up at Angelina from his dinner, a smile on his face. When he saw her expression it slipped. "Louis, we got a restraining order for your dad."
Silence. Louis felt the silence pounding against his ears. Louder then any words could have been. He swallowed past the lump in his throat. "Really?" he said, trying desperately to keep his voice neutral. He could sense all eyes on him. Romeo put a hand on his shoulder, for which he was immensely grateful.
"Yes, so you shouldn't worry anymore." Jodi looked at him peculiarly, almost as if she were about to cry.
Louis tried to smile, though it came out more like a grimace. "Thanks guys. This means a lot to me."
The dinner continued without interruption. Louis found himself looking out windows every couple of seconds because he knew, even if no one else did.
A restraining order meant nothing to his dad. He had already tried to kill him once. He was going to try again.
And this time his mom wasn't there to stop him.
This time, Louis might die.