The Circus of Stolen Dreams by Lorelei Savaryn EPUB & PDF – eBook Details Online
- Status: Available for Free Download
- Author: Lorelei Savaryn
- Language: English
- Genre: Teen & Young Adult Fiction about Siblings
- Format: PDF / EPUB
- Size: 2 MB
- Price: Free
THE GIRL WITHOUT A SHADOW
The dining room window reflected the blurred façade of
a happy family at dinner: a mom and dad and their one and only
child. Andrea glared through the silent, transparent scene, up at the
moon and the way it shone like a spotlight, piercing them with its
otherworldly glow.
Family dinners used to be loud. Francis would tell jokes from his
joke book and make ridiculous noises just to get Andrea to laugh.
Andrea would cut in, the words pouring out of her like water in a
swift current as she told them all every single detail about her day.
Their mom and dad would look at each other, their faces a mixture of
wide eyes and amused smiles.
Now no one, not her parents sitting next to her at the table, not
the blurred family in the window, not even the man in the moon
knew what to do other than steep in the silence.
Andrea stabbed a piece of chicken.
Her mother put her fork down and folded her hands as if in
prayer, giving a slight nudge of the elbow to her father. “Just tell
her,” she whispered, as if Andrea couldn’t hear.
Her father shuffled carrots around his plate, then cleared his
throat. “Your mother and I . . . We know this hasn’t been easy on
you.”
Andrea’s breathing grew shallow. She curled her fingers into a
ball, pressing her nails hard into her palms, making mini moon
marks against her skin.
“But we think it’s time to let go,” he continued. “Winter’s
coming. Your mother could use the space in the garage.”
“And we think it would be healthy, Drea.” Her mother stared
empty-eyed at the wood grain on the table. “We’d like you to go
through his boxes and choose a few things you’d like to keep.”
Any food Andrea had already eaten formed itself into a knot in
her stomach, threatening to make its way back up.
Her father reached out a hand to touch her shoulder, but Andrea
recoiled, pressing her back into her chair. For the past three years,
Andrea had blamed him for everything: for the divorce, for showing
up on Sunday nights and making them sit through Fake Family
Dinner. She had even tried to blame him for what happened to
Francis. But, as always, the steady pulsing rhythm of blame grew a
little louder from a dark place deep inside.
Your fault, your fault, your fault.
Andrea tilted her chair away from the empty seat at the end of
the table. “I’m not ready.” She tried the three words that had gotten
her out of so much since it happened. Homework, soccer, talking
about the night Francis disappeared. She didn’t want to go through
her brother’s things, but the thought of the boxes being discarded
unseen scrubbed at Andrea’s scabbed-over wounds like an eraser,
hot with friction.
“I can’t keep looking at them every time I walk in the garage,”
her mother snapped, her voice cracking on the last word, ripping
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