The Death of Lila Jane
“At first, I thought he’d regretted doing it but even with this odd sadness looming in the air, he still held my hand when we ventured out and made sure I always had what I needed.
I wasn’t sure if he was just becoming increasingly worried about what we would do when our money ran out or if it was something heavier weighing on him.
At night, I’d wake up at odd hours to the sound of a pen scratching across the paper in his notebook furiously. I jokingly asked if he was sending my father a ransom note, and he left saying he needed to get some air, not coming back until the sun rose again.
After three days of him wandering the streets at night, I got up the courage to follow him, making sure to keep my distance because I’d already received my fill of lectures about how unsafe it was for me to go out alone, especially at night. He was beginning to sound more and more like my parents and I could feel myself building up a wall between us.
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