Total pages in book: 100
Estimated words: 91212 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 456(@200wpm)___ 365(@250wpm)___ 304(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 91212 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 456(@200wpm)___ 365(@250wpm)___ 304(@300wpm)
The altercation with my little sister came at the end of a very hectic and frustrating day, and I took my anger out on her. I've regretted the harsh words ever since, although they were probably things she needed to hear. Hell, they were all things that she had heard from others. I have no idea why mine had such an impact when she never listened to any of us.
I fight the urge to call William and tell him what's going on because he, more than any of us, has voiced his opinion about Sadie's uselessness, and I know a lot of that are words that were echoed by my father.
William Preston Sr. wasn't a harsh man. He was a loving father, but Sadie tested that love every chance she got. Everything she thought Dad did wrong was a personal slight to her, and she worked very hard to make him pay for it until he cut her off. Drug treatments didn't work, and I don't know that she's been inside of one since Dad died. She was in treatment when he passed, and although in our day-to-day lives, it seemed she hated the man, she was filled with regret and remorse after his passing. Only she treated that pain with prescription pills, alcohol, and illicit drugs.
The last five years have been brutal for all of us, but it seemed Sadie was hellbent on destroying herself more than anything else. That, of course, still had a certain level of backlash on our entire family just because of her last name.
No, reaching out to William Jr. now wouldn't be a good idea. He'd find some way to talk me out of it, tell me that getting anyone else involved in our family matters is a bad call, and my guilt won't let me give up on Sadie, despite what I told her the last time she was home.
Part of me thinks this is another way for her to punish us, to see how far we'll take things. Her disappearance could be just another manipulation, a bid to see what we're willing to do to get her to come back home. Now that makes me want to reject Senator Dyer's offer of help, because, honestly, no favor is free, and there's no telling when the man will call in what's owed to him.
It would be like Sadie to start a shitstorm, only to sit back silently and watch the destruction play out.
It's this anger that I hold on to as I try and attempt to tackle my overflowing inbox, but I lose steam at the third request for an internship.
I took over my mother's non-profit after her death and, unlike many non-profits, we legitimately want to help people. My mother always thought that literacy was more important than a lot of other causes. We can't expect people to be able to help themselves if they can't read a simple job application or instructions on how to operate basic machinery. Helping as many people as we can means keeping our overhead to a minimum. We work long hours, coming home exhausted at the end of the day to keep costs down. Years ago, people would volunteer their time, if only because their involvement with our organization looked good on a résumé. These days, people no longer want to volunteer for the greater good. They not only expect to be paid for their help, but their list of demands now includes major medical, paid vacations, and a retirement plan.
I totally get where they're coming from, but, at the same time, what about earning your stripes first?
Thinking of the younger generation as separate from myself makes me feel even older, and that's the last damn thing I want.
I close out of my email and stand from the desk, not letting my eyes drift out the window. It's still too early in the year to worry about the flower garden, but knowing spring will be here before long gives me a little hope that it won't stay sad and dreary forever.
Now, if I could only get Sadie to answer her phone before spending a ton of money looking for her, that would be great.
Chapter 3
Ace
Thankfully, Mike is gone for a job.
Each day, for the last several weeks, has done nothing but drag by. There was a time when I wanted to get up in the morning and face the day and the challenges it may hold. I'd complain about slow days, wishing for a little action to get my heart pumping. Now, I lie in bed most mornings, questioning my entire life. Although I'd like to blame it on this new endeavor with Cerberus, it honestly started long before. My meeting with Kincaid all those months ago about this idea was actually a way for me to try and combat this restlessness and the burnout I've felt for a while now.