Eric Prince’s words have been playing on a loop in my mind since Darby finished reading the damn note, but I’m not interested in saying them out loud. “It was bad, I don’t want to go into it. Wilkes is going to Eric’s house to talk to him.”
“Does your building have cameras?”
“Uhh.” I think back to the hallways, trying to see the corner where a camera could be installed. “I don’t know. I’m sure Wilkes is already thinking of that, though.”
“I’m worried about you. I always am, but I’mreallyworried now. Let me see if I can make some arrangements and get that money to you faster. I want you out of Arizona. Ummm,” she pauses, and I would bet a hundred dollars she’s biting down on a pencil as she thinks. It’s her thing. “Let me talk to your dad. He’s out on the boat. Maybe he’ll think of something I haven’t yet.”
“Mom, it’s okay. Don’t worry about it. Friday is fine. The car I ordered can’t pick me up until Saturday morning.”
“I bet that wasn’t cheap.”
“Don’t ask,” I tell her.
She lets out a low whistle.
I don’t want to think about the cost right now. In the grand scheme of things, it’s a small price to pay. “Wilkes said he’ll need my other letters, and I told him I’d give them to him before my flight on Saturday.”
“I want you out of there ASAP.” Her voice is stern. If there were any way I could laugh right now, I’d be cackling over her tone. Strict isn’t a word that could ever be applied to my mother’s parenting style. Laissez-faire? Much more accurate.
“I’m working on it.”
“And Connor?”
“I thought you only had a moment to talk?”
“Just tell me so I can go.”
“It’s over, and that’s good, because I need to leave.” It hurts my heart to even say the words.
“You’re okay?”
“Yep.” The lie slips smoothly through my teeth, but the immediate sadness I feel gurgles around in my core.
“No you’re not. I can tell.”
I sigh. “You’re right. I’m not okay. It hurts.”
“I’m sorry sweetie.”
“I knew better than to let this happen. I just,” my lips purse and I see Connor’s face, his grin, his messy morning hair. “I just didn’t know a man like him would be here.”
“I love you, babe. Everything will work out. Friday, okay? We’ll get you out of there.”
“Thanks, Mom. Love you. Bye.”
Her voice trails through the phone as I hang up, and I know she’s yelling to whoever was waiting for her. Standing by for Wilkes to call is going to drive me nuts. So are the questions running through my mind. Is he at Eric Prince’s house right now? Has Eric admitted it? What if he does? Will he go to jail? Will I press charges? Do I even want to? Maybe he needs mental help, not jail. If he gets better, can I stay here? Can I be with Connor?
I grab my purse and leave the small house that has become my safe haven. I always lock the door. It’s such a habit that I do it without thinking, but today I’m careful and deliberate, absorbing the reverberation against my fingers when the key slips into the lock. My ears strain to hear the satisfyingthunkas the lock slides into place.
Today it means more.
I head for the grocery store. At first I found it depressing when the employees there learned my name, but know I think maybe it’s not. Maybe it’s nice. For years I went to the same grocery store in Phoenix, and nobody ever learned my name. I didn’t bother to learn theirs either. There was always the perfunctoryHow are youfrom the cashierand my expected responseGood, thanks, how are you?What would’ve it taken to learn their name? One second, maybe two? I was too busy, rushing from one event to the next, making friends and widening my circle so I could find the right people to come to the clubs and make the owners happy.
I spent all my time on people who knew nothing about me except my name and which club I could get them into, and the worst part? I didn’t know a damn thing about them either. I spent my time on them, my precious, dwindling time, and it amounted to nothing. Seconds became minutes, minutes became hours, and then suddenly it was years of empty and fake friendships.
I was so used to seeing right through people that when I saw Amy Prince and she needed help, I looked through her like she was transparent. What would’ve changed if I’d said hello to her? Could I have offered to soothe her baby? Bought her a croissant from the cafe in the bookstore and sat down across from her, asked her about herself and what she liked to do?
I am not guilty of involuntary manslaughter.
