“That...sounds like a great idea. It might bring you some closure. Let me know if you want me there.” He leaned in, kissed my cheek, and headed toward the stairs. “You wait here. That’s an order from the man of the house.”
He was joking, playing it cool, acting like his whole body hadn’t gone tense the moment I’d mentioned calling my mom. But really, how else was he supposed to react? We were all exhausted, worn thin by drama and tears. Maybe being positive—even fake-positive—was all any of us could manage right now.
I watched him leave, then stared at my phone.
I should play the recording.
But I couldn’t. Not yet. I was too scared. What if I heard only my voice on both sides? Talking like two completely different people?
That would be horror. Pure, cold horror.
And if the womanwasreal, there was no rush. She was free to leave. Nobody hurt her. I decided to wait and play the recording to Anna first. She would be able to help me navigate my new crisis unfolding in front of me. A split personality, with textbook psychotic episodes.
From under the blanket, Mochi chirped, announcing that he was awake.
I walked over and lifted the edge of the blanket. His little eyes blinked up at me, wide and shiny.
“If I open your cage and let you fly around freely, do you promise to go back in when I ask?”
We’d been here long enough. He knew the rooms by now. He’d earned a little more freedom. I’d stay with him all day, keeping him away from the dogs—and myself away too. Just in case I did to Rascal what I feared most.
“I promise,” Mochi said in his robotic voice.
I opened the cage, and he climbed onto my hand, light and warm. I kissed the top of his little head and carried him into the dressing room with me.
“I love you, Mochi. You know that, right?”
“I love you,” he answered. “I love you.”
Chapter 22
Ignoring Daniel’s instructions to stay in bed, I made my way downstairs with Mochi perched on my shoulder. Anxiety churned in my gut. My thoughts wouldn’t settle, just kept darting from one dark corner in my mind to another. I needed something to do, anything to keep my hands busy. Even making breakfast felt like a mission.
“You have to get her out of here,” Hudson’s voice warned in a low rumble just as I reached the kitchen door. “A huge storm is coming.”
I stopped cold, staying out of sight.
“And how am I going to do that?” Daniel snapped in a low voice. “I tried. Every day. She refuses to leave.”
“Try harder.”
“Try harder?” His voice rose with disbelief. “Like how, Hudson? Drag her out by her hair?”
Silence followed.
“You kidding me?” Daniel’s voice cracked sharply.
“Daniel. She needs to leave. For all of our safety. Now. By whatever means necessary. Use the storm. Tell her it’s not safe here. It’s a big one. She’ll believe it.”
“She isn’t scared of storms.”
“Then use your dead parents if you have to, and lie like you’ve never lied before. Tell her the storm brings up trauma. That you need to leave. For both of your sakes. She’s getting worse here. Spiraling into darkness.”
“You think I don’t fucking see that?”
“Then do something about it! The police were just here. Use it. With her history, it can’t be that hard to get a judge to declare her insa—”
“Good morning!” Mochi chirped, loud and oblivious.
