Read Cinder for Free Online Page A

get up, rinse out my bowl, and then place it in the sink. I put the cereal box away then turn around and lean against the counter.  As I’m standing there, trying to figure out where to go next, I get the strangest feeling that someone is watching me, like that night the book was stolen. I glance around the empty kitchen, that’s filled with dishes that need to be washed, empty boxes of food, and overdue bills, normal stuff. I go to the doorway and peek into the living room then make a round through the foyer, but there’s no one but me in the house.
     
    Sighing at my craziness, I return to the kitchen and start to clean up. “You say that you’ll only tell me about my father when you get what you want from me,” I try to speak to Cameron again as I scrub down the countertops with a dish rag. “But what exactly do you want from me?”
     
    I wait for him to answer, but he never does and the silence only adds emptiness to the house. Deciding I need to hear an actual living person’s voice, I cross the kitchen and collect my cellphone from the table. Then I go over to the note beside the sink and get the phone number to the clinic my mom’s at. I dial the number and the secretary answers after three rings.
     
    “Hi, can I speak to Rose Lawson,” I ask, sitting down at the table.
     
    “And who may I ask is calling?” she responds in an automated tone.
     
    “Ember Edwards,” I tell her and then, since we don’t have the same last name, I add, “her daughter.”
     
    She pauses and I hear keyboard keys clicking. “Just one moment, please.”
     
    There’s a ringing in the background, overlapped by the sound of voices, as I silently wait. Moments later, the secretary says, “I’m sorry, but Rose Lawson checked out last Friday.”
     
    “That’s impossible.” I press my fingertips to my nose, feeling a headache emerging. “That was over five days ago and she hasn’t come home yet. Can you please check again?”
     
    She tells me she will, but I can tell she’s just tolerating me. When she gets back on the line, she tells me the same thing and I hang up without saying good-bye. I have no idea what else to do besides call Ian. But his phone sends me straight to voicemail and I hang up, feeling helpless, clutching my phone in my hand as I lower my head.
     
    I breathe in and out, telling myself that it’s okay. That my mom probably just decided she wasn’t going to come home because she doesn’t want to be around me, which is highly possible and it certainly wouldn’t be the first time. Still, I can’t help wondering if she left of her own freewill, or did something happen to her? I need to find that out, so I go up to the computer and search the internet for any suspicious headlines, like maybe an unidentified body of a woman. It’s sort of a messed up place to start, but since there’s been a lot of murders lately, I have to go there first. Thankfully, nothing turns up. I could call the police, but I doubt that’d go over well. She’s an adult. I’m crazy. End of discussion.
     
    I start to head up to my room, when I hear the front door creak open. I pause, waiting for the sound of footsteps or a voice, but all I hear it the wind. Slowly, I go into the foyer again. The door is wide open and leaves are blowing in across the floor. There’s no one in there though. No one out on the porch. I stick my head outside and there doesn’t seem to be a single soul in sight.
     
    “That’s weird,” I say, shutting the door, confused as I turn for the stairs.
     
    That’s when I hear the swish .
     
    Seconds later something flies over my head, getting so close it brushes against my hair. I duck, throwing my arms over my head as a dark mass circles around and does it again, this time going through me. A cold chill soars through my body, like it did the night the book was stolen, and I drop flat on my stomach on the hard floor. It feels like the wind is knocked out of me as I flip over, catching my