Chapter 11

As we rolled up the dirt road, I thought it strange that lights were flickering on the ground floor, since I wasn’t home. So I was shocked and angry to find Emil lounging in my living room with the television on.

“What in the Sam Hill are you doing here?” I roared. I’d gone from happy to livid in a few seconds. I was sliding into a panic attack.

Emil jumped, his hand knocking over the cut-crystal wineglass that had been resting on the end table next to the recliner. It shattered as it hit the floor. The glass was the last of my grandmother’s, the only thing I had left of hers. A nearly empty bottle of my special Erba Mountainside 2005 Cabernet Sauvignon sat on the floor next to the table.

“What? Huh?” He rubbed his eyes. “I was waiting for you to come home, Frankie baby.”

He sounded as squishy as he looked.

My head started pounding, and my vision blurred at the edges. I was hyperventilating and feeling dizzy.