Genre: Psychological Thriller

Mia Barnes rubbed her fingers across the scars on her wrists. No matter how hard she tried, she would never forget what happened to her. The night her whole life changed. The night he took everything from her.

Judith Barnes couldn’t shake the vivid memories of that night. The night she found her daughter near death. Since that day, all she wanted was to know why. Why her daughter thought her life wasn’t worth living.

A story of family, love, and grief. How far will a mother go to find out the truth? How far will a daughter go to hide it? What happens when the truth comes out?

Excerpt

The floorboards creaked and moaned as I climbed the stairs to the second floor. Stopping at the top, I glanced at the two closed doors to my left: the furthest being Mia’s bedroom. My son Ethan had left for college two weeks ago. I didn’t hear anything but the storm outside, which meant that no one was home but me.

Once in my bedroom, I closed the door and walked into the bathroom. The hot steaming shower caressed my body, relaxing my muscles. The stress of the day went washing down the drain. It felt good to be home.

Minutes later, dressed in comfy clothes, I left the bedroom. I stood at the top of the stairs, staring down the hall at Mia’s bedroom door again. I wasn’t sure what was bothering me. Positive that no one was home, but something stirred inside me. My motherly instincts setting in, making me feel like something was wrong.

I positioned my foot on the first step and stopped. A soft banging came from down the hall near Mia’s bedroom. I had told Scott several times that the pipes were making noises and needed to be looked at. I grabbed the banister, turned, and made my way down the hall toward Mia’s bedroom, flicking on the hall lights as I went.

Placing my ear against the door, I listened. Mia didn’t like it when I came into her room unannounced. A fight I grudgingly lost multiple times. I hated fighting with her, so I agreed to give her some space. Some independence.

Being a mother was hard, especially these days when disciplining your child was frowned upon. Not that I ever hit my children.

There it was again but not as subtle as before.

“Mia,” I whispered, tapping a knuckle against the door. “Are you home?”

Nothing.

Thunder boomed, rattling the windows all around me.

I jumped at the sharp crack of lightning, then the lights went out, leaving me in darkness.

“Shit!” I blinked several times, waiting for my eyes to adjust. My cell phone. Where was my phone? Patting my pockets, I felt the hard case. I pulled the phone out and tapped the flashlight icon. Light illuminated.

Placing my hand on the doorknob, I turned, and found it locked. I stretched my arm above my head, sliding my fingers along the frame until I felt the key. It was something Scott and I agreed to do for emergencies if we needed to get inside the room. Just in case the kids forgot that they had locked the door before falling asleep. Even though as their parents we had protested against the door being locked in the first place. I was once a teenager too and wanted nothing more than my space from my parents. But still, we frowned upon the door being locked. Though, if Scott were the one knocking, Mia wouldn’t hesitate to let her dad inside.

I hesitated, gripping the key in my hand. Once I opened the door there was no turning back. I wasn’t in the mood to fight with Mia which we seemed to do constantly since we had gotten back from our family trip to the Bahamas. I tried to get her to talk to me several times when we were on vacation and after we arrived back home, but she wouldn’t have anything to do with me. Wouldn’t even let me in her room. I thought maybe her, and Trevor had broken up, and she just wanted to hide in her room with her heartache. But that thought defused when he came to pick her up to go to the mall that next day.

The key slipped from my shaky hand and onto the floor. Kneeling, I grasped the key between my fingers and placed it into the lock. I closed my eyes and swallowed, waiting for the click as I turned the key to the right. “You’re not doing anything wrong,” I whispered to myself. “You’re just checking to see if she’s home, oh and to check the pipes for leakage.”

The hinges squeaked, echoing through the upstairs hall as I pushed the door open. My eyes drifted around the room, landing on the pink duvet I had bought her when she was seven which lay across the bed with a dark pink throw on the end. The pillows on her bed were upright and fluffed. Mia was good at making her bed and keeping her room clean compared to Ethan, my mind noted.

My eyes scanned the room, focusing on the desk in the corner which sat vacant. Mia wasn’t here. I moved around the room, stopping by the window overlooking the street below. The clouds moved quickly by, and the rain ceased, leaving the ground saturated and the streets flooded. A burst of light shot across the sky, making me jump again. I let out a small laugh, allowing my shoulders to sink beneath my T-shirt. “It’s just the storm, Judith. Chill out.” Truth was, I hated everything about storms. I feared the darkness, especially when the power went out. Consequently, due to my childhood.

Using the flashlight to guide my way, I moved toward the closet and peeked inside. My hand automatically went for the light switch, forgetting for a second that the electricity had gone out.

I scanned the closet. Stuffed teddy bears lined the shelf along the ceiling. Shoes laid in a heap near the back corner and clothes hung haphazardly off the hangers. My OCD taking charge, I stepped inside and began straightening her clothes. Neat and tidy just the way I liked it.

Plop, plop.

My ears perked. The sound came from the other side of the wall. Or in the wall. Could it be the pipes? Were they leaking? “Just great,” I muttered. “Where was Scott when I needed him?” I was always making things out to be more than they were; something my husband constantly expressed to me.

I walked out of the closet and stood outside the closed bathroom door. Like before, I placed my hand on the knob. Was Mia home after all? I didn’t hear the shower running. No sound of Mia moving around on the other side of the door, recalling that she usually played music when she took a bath or a shower.

My stomach twisted into a knot, dreading a fight with Mia for intruding on her privacy. Call it mother’s intuition, but something didn’t feel right.

I turned the knob, finding it unlocked, and pushed the door open.

My legs buckled and I dropped to my knees onto the tiled floor.

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About the Author

Donna M. Zadunajsky started out writing children’s books before she wrote and published her first novel, Broken Promises, in June 2012. She since has written several more novels and her first novella, HELP ME! Book 1 in the series, which is about teen suicide and bullying.

Her third novel Family Secrets, “Secrets and Second Chances”, which is first in a series she is writing, was given a publishing contract through California Times Publishing.

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