A Bad Day for Sunshine (Sunshine Vicram #1) - Darynda Jones Page 0,89
mother, was that she’d had plans. She’d had dreams and aspirations. Her grandparents had slipped once and told Auri about her mom’s childhood dream of becoming a jet pilot in the navy. How it was all she’d talked about. All she’d ever wanted to do.
And Auri had ruined that. Her mere presence had changed the course of her mother’s destiny, and there was simply no getting around that. No sugarcoating it.
“I’m taking her home,” her mother said.
Mr. Jacobs nodded, then turned to Cruz. “Cruz, your father is here. I’ve called in an interpreter.”
Auri’s gaze flew to him.
“That serious, huh?” Cruz said.
The principal offered him a grim smile. “We can wait for the interpreter and discuss it then.”
Sun led Auri out, and once again, Auri couldn’t help but feel she’d just ruined someone’s life. That was apparently her thing.
Sun and Auri drove home in silence with Quincy in the back seat. Sun held her daughter’s hand, refusing to let go even when Auri gently tugged.
When they pulled into the drive, Auri asked in the softest voice Sun had ever heard from her, “Did Mr. Jacobs tell you what happened?” She looked so small, so hurt, Sun had to swallow down a lump in her throat.
She was in shock for the second time that day. First the shed where she’d been held for five days, then the video. “Let’s go inside, okay?”
Auri’s lower lip quivered like a child being chastised, and Sun pulled her across the console and into her arms. She broke down, sobbing uncontrollably. Sobbing so much Sun had started, too.
Break her heart. Break her arm or her leg. Break her will. But leave her daughter alone. Those kids crossed a line, and Sun would make sure they knew it. She’d tried to arrest them right then and there, but Quincy stopped her, saying they needed to investigate first. And she needed to cool down.
The fact that he was right didn’t help.
Quincy leaned forward and put a large hand on each of their heads.
Auri glanced nervously at him. “Did you see it, too?”
He nodded, and Sun was surprised by the wetness in his eyes as well.
“We need to talk. About everything. And Quincy needs to know, too.”
“I’m okay if you aren’t comfortable with my being here, bean sprout. I will not be offended in the least.”
Auri’s breath hitched in her chest, and the sobs began again. She jumped between the seats and into Quincy’s arms, and Sun’s head spun from the grief coursing through her veins.
She’d never told her. Clearly, she should have. For her to learn the truth about . . . everything like this . . . it was too much.
They went inside her parents’ house where Elaine and Cyrus were waiting with coffee and hot chocolate at the ready. They scooped up Auri and held her tightly as the girl broke down again.
Before beginning, Sun checked in at the station. No new updates. Sun needed to get back to work as soon as humanly possible, but this was not something that could wait. Her deputies were competent on every level, and they also had Fields’s help.
She told Anita if they found anything, no matter how small, to give her a call. Then she put her phone on vibrate and turned to face her family. Auri was still crying, and something hit Sun. Something she hadn’t considered before. Something she hadn’t dared.
But the more she thought about it, the more she realized Auri’s reaction wasn’t quite on par with what it should have been had that information in the video been new.
Sun sank down onto the sofa and said softly, “Oh, my god. You already knew.”
Auri whirled to face her, the guilt so evident, Sun stopped breathing.
“Auri, how? When? How long have you—?”
Auri sat on the coffee table in front of her as her parents sat beside her on the sofa. Quincy took a recliner, barely sitting on the edge and clasping his hands in front of him.
“Auri, you knew?” her mother asked.
The sobs that had been wreaking havoc on her daughter’s body were taking their toll. She could barely breathe.
“Where’s her inhaler?” she asked her father.
Cyrus jumped up and found a spare in a kitchen drawer. He came back and handed it to his granddaughter, the love in his eyes heart-wrenching.
“Sweetheart,” Sun said after Auri breathed in the Albuterol. She looked like a child. Like she had when she was in elementary school, her chest hitching every few seconds. Her eyes and mouth swollen.