Her Name Was Annie by Beth Rinyu (the little red hen read aloud txt) 📕

if you think a few glasses of wine is enough to make me hallucinate, then I don’t know what to tell you. Do your job, and you’ll see I was right.” I shook my head in disgust and headed into the bedroom. I sat on the edge of the bed, raking my hand through my hair, relieved when I heard the front door close.

“You were a little rough on him, don’t you think?” Jack asked, standing in the bedroom doorway.

“No. I don’t.” I stood up and paced back and forth. “I know what happened and will not be viewed as some drunk on the beach who made a story up for attention.”

“I think you’re being a little paranoid. That’s not what he was trying to say.”

First I was seeing things and now I was paranoid. I had all I could take of male egos and their patronizing ways for one night. I was too exhausted to get in a full-blown battle with Jack over this, so I took a deep breath and calmly requested, “Lock the door behind you, please.”

Chapter 3

GRABBING MY LAPTOP and papers I needed to grade for the night, I crammed everything into my bag. I battled with the zipper, finally getting it closed after spewing a few obscenities under my breath. Heading out of the classroom and down the hallway, I said my goodbyes to random staff members I passed as I made my exit. It had been a long week already, and it was only Wednesday. The fact that I hadn’t been sleeping well wasn’t helping matters. Every time I closed my eyes, I saw that man thrusting himself into the waves, never to be seen again.

I couldn’t imagine what was going through his mind as he allowed the ocean to swallow him up. I tried my hardest to erase the memory and focus on the good stuff. Kara would be coming home the weekend for Thanksgiving break. Her college was a little over an hour’s drive away in Pennsylvania, but for me, it was like the other side of the world. As I strode down the long walkway to the parking lot, I pulled my phone from my purse when I heard the ding of a text message.

Kara: Hey, do you care if I bring a friend home for Thanksgiving?

Me: Not at all.

Kara: Thanks, can’t wait for you to meet him xoxo

Him? Did she have a special someone she hadn’t told me about? I shrugged and threw my phone back in my purse. As my car came into view, I focused closely on the black BMW parked next to me that looked just like Jack’s and then the man standing against it—who was Jack.

“Well, to what do I owe this honor?” I asked, tapping on my key fob to unlock my car door.

“A body washed up this morning on the shore about eight miles south of where you saw him go in.”

“Oh.” My heart sank a little. It had been three days since everything had transpired, and in the back of my mind I was still holding out some hope that maybe the man had survived. “Do they know who he is?”

“They’re running DNA now. They wanted to know if you could identify him as the man you saw on the beach.”

“I told you, I barely got a look at him. His back was toward me.”

Jack nodded. “I know. But can you at least try? I’ll go with you.”

My stomach churned. Looking at a dead body was definitely not on the agenda for the night, but the sooner I got it done with, the sooner I could get home into my pajamas and in front of the television, which had been my original plan. “Fine,” I muttered, throwing my bag into my back seat while Jack opened up the passenger side door of his car for me.

“Hey, Stephanie!” a voice called from the distance just as I was about to get into the car. I smiled when I saw it was Michael, the new Gym teacher. Handsome, my age, and divorced. “Don’t forget we’re all going out for drinks tomorrow night, no excuses.”

“Promise I’ll be there.”

“Attagirl!” he shouted as he hopped into his Jeep.

I stood in place for a moment, finally catching the ridiculous schoolgirl grin stretched across my face.

“If you’re done flirting, can you get in the car now?” Jack’s tone was more annoyed than amused. I snapped out of it, powerless to argue that I wasn’t flirting because I kind of was. The fact that Jack seemed a little jealous over it was oddly an added perk.

“So Kara informed me she’s bringing home a friend for Thanksgiving.” I decided to break up the silence with a mutual interest as we drove along. “It’s a he,” I added.

“Oh yeah?” He didn’t seem surprised.

“Did she happen to tell you about anyone she was dating?”

“No. I’m sure she’d tell you about that before me anyway. Maybe he really is just a friend.”

“Maybe.” I shrugged and gazed out the window, becoming more mindful of the quietness between us. Normally on the rare occasions when we were together these days, Kara was there to act as a buffer, filling in that awkward silence with one of her many stories. It amazed me how two people who had known each other for so long and were once in love could be reduced to feeling the need to make small talk instead of saying nothing at all. Jack must’ve been feeling the same way, turning up the radio to drown out the quiet. When I couldn’t take it anymore, I began asking him how his parents were, how his job was going, stopping short with his dating life. Small talk at its finest. He followed my lead, answering amiably, then peppering me with the same line of questioning. I was thankful we were able to fill in the fifty-minute car ride with some chatter instead. Any kind of noise was better than nothing.

“Wow, so this is where all