"So, what's this all about?" she asks gently. "And don't think I've forgotten about that bruise. Who hurt you?"
I take a deep breath. "Mom, there's... there's a lot I need to tell you. About Dad, about our debts. About why I've really been gone these past weeks."
She stops walking, her clasp on my arm tightening. "Linnea, you're scaring me. What's going on?"
I glance around nerves getting the better of me, acutely aware of how exposed we are on the street. "Not here," I say. "Let's go somewhere private."
She frowns. “Let’s just go home, we can talk in private there…”
“No!” She flinches at my sharp denial, and I die a little inside as I see real fear echo in her tired eyes.
We end up beside a small stream nearby, sitting on a secluded bench beneath a drooping willow tree. The branches sway gently in the breeze, creating a curtain of green that shields us from prying eyes and makes me feel a modicum of safety, which I doubt is real, but I cling to regardless. I close my eyes, just for a second, steeling myself for what's to come.
"Mom, I need you to listen carefully and try not to interrupt," I begin, my voice little more than a whisper. "What I'm about to tell you is going to be hard to hear, but we don't have much time."
She nods, her face pale with worry. I can see the questions burning in her eyes, but she remains blessedly silent.
"Dad, he… he…" Fuck I don’t want to tell her this.
“He what, Linnea?” my mom prompts, her voice soft and hesitant. “Tell me.”
"He got involved with some dangerous people. The mob. He borrowed money from them." I finally admit, the words tasting bitter on my tongue.
Mom gasps, her hand flying to her mouth. "Nooo!” She lets out a mournful cry. “Why would he do that?”
She knows what this means.
“He did it to pay for your treatments,” I tell her, hoping to soften the blow, all the while hating myself for the pain I'm causing her. "And now they're after us for the money. That's whyI've been gone. I've been... trying to earn enough to reimburse them."
Her eyes narrow. “What did you do?” she demands, surprising me with her insistence. “Did they…?” She touches a gentle hand to my cheek, and I know what she’s thinking.
I clasp her hand in my own and squeeze. “No, no, nothing like that.” Although that will come next. We both know it. “I’ve been working through a specialist agency for a wealthy man as his… maid.”
Something flickers in her expression, like she knows, but I can't bring myself to verbalize the truth about what I've been doing. The shame burns through me. I can't let her know how far I've fallen. Literally.
“Linnea…” She pulls me into a tight embrace, and I can feel her trembling, but I pull back, wiping my eyes, and rush on before she can say anything.
"There's more, Mom. We're in danger. Real danger. These people, they don't mess around. I think..." I close my eyes, forcing the words out. "I think they might have killed Dad."
She goes still, her face draining of color. "What?"
"His 'suicide'... I don't think it was intentional at all.”
“I knew he’d never take the coward’s way out,” she whispers, almost to herself, as she stares at nothing. “I knew he’d never leave us to fend for ourselves without an income after he remortgaged the house.”
She’s right. I always believed that, too. Dad did so much for both of us. Hell, he borrowed from the mob to give Mom a chance at life. He would never have deserted us when we needed him most.
She turns to me with a fire in her eyes I haven’t seen since before she got sick. “What happened with your job?” she asks astutely. I should have known she would.
I sigh. “The enforcer guy who collects payment for the mob saw me in the swanky neighborhood where I was working and followed me back to my employer’s house.”
“What did he do?” she growls, going all mama bear. It fills some of the cold places inside me.
I purse my lips. “He wanted me to steal for him, and when I refused, he got angry, threatened me… and then the guy I worked for arrived home and misread the situation, so he threw me out. Reggie was waiting outside when I left,” I tell her, running my fingers over my bruised cheek.
“I got lucky. The doorman chased him off, but he’ll be looking for me. They'll be after us now, so we need to leave, Mom. Tonight. We need to sneak back home after dark in case they’re waiting for us there, pack the essentials, then just put a pin in a map and drive "
Mom’s shoulders heave, and she lets out a broken sob. Curling my arm around her, I give her what comfort I can. “I know it’s hard to leave our home, Mom, but it’s better than paying with our lives, like dad did.”
