“Then what did you mean?” He went quiet for a moment, then his voice changed, “Sarah, are those men still bothering you? The ones from before? You told me the debt was cleared, that they were gone. Were you lying?”
My heart stopped. “No. No, they’re gone. I told you, remember? That final payment cleared everything. They haven’t contacted me since.”
The lie came out smooth because I’d practiced it so many times in my head—prepared for this exact question.
“You’re sure? Because if they’re still around, I’m coming back whether you want me to or not.”
“I’m sure. They’re completely out of my life.” I forced conviction into my voice. “The debt’s done, Colin. Over. Finished. You don’t need to worry about that anymore.”
“Then why don’t you want me to visit?”
“I don’t want you wasting money,” I said finally, trying to sound reasonable instead of desperate. “You’re in London, Colin. Most people would kill for that opportunity. Don’t spend your break flying back to New York just to sit in my depressing apartment.”
“Your apartment isn’t depressing, and I don’t care about experiences. I care about you.” His voice got that stubborn edge it always got when he’d made up his mind about something. “Something’s wrong, Sarah. I can tell. And whatever it is, I want to help.”
“There’s nothing wrong.” The lie burned coming out. “I’m just busy with work and trying to save money. Having you here would be a distraction.”
The silence on the other end stretched long enough that I thought he might have hung up.
“A distraction,” he repeated finally, his voice flat. “Right. Got it.”
“Colin, don’t be like that.”
He took a breath. “Fine. I’ll stay in London. I’ll go see the stupid highlands or whatever. Have a great rest of your night, Sarah.”
“Colin, wait?—”
But he’d already hung up.
I stared at my phone, at Colin’s contact photo smiling back at me. I wanted to call him back and tell him the truth and ask him to forgive me for pushing him away.
Instead, I set the phone down and went back to my ramen, which had gone cold and congealed. I ate it anyway because I’d already paid for it, and wasting food felt like a crime when I was skipping meals to save money.
My brother hated me now, but at least he was safe in London. Away from loan sharks and threats and the mess our father had left behind.
Gianna’s call came the next evening, her usual cheerfulness replaced by worry.
“Sarah? Are you busy?”
I looked around my apartment at the stack of bills I couldn’t pay and the job applications I’d filled out. “Not really. What’s wrong?”
“It’s Lily. She’s been staring at her old ballet photos all afternoon, and she won’t eat. My mom tried making her favorites, but she just shook her head and went back to her room. I think she’s getting worse without her dad here.”
Something in my chest pulled tight. “I’m on my way.”
“You don’t have a session today.”
“I know. I’m coming anyway.”
The subway ride took forever, and I spent every minute wondering what I’d say when I got there. How do you help a child who’s drowning in grief when you’re barely keeping your own head above water?
Mrs. Pearson met me at the door with relief written all over her face. “Thank goodness. She’s in her room, and she hasn’t come out since lunch.”
I found Lily sitting on her bed holding a photo frame, and when I got closer, I saw it was a picture of her and her mother. Both of them wore ballet outfits, Lily’s tiny pink leotard matching her mother’s elegant costume. They were laughing at something outside the frame, caught in a moment of pure joy.
“Hey, Lily bug.” I sat on the edge of her bed. “Gianna said you’ve been having a tough day.”
She didn’t look at me, just kept staring at that photo like it held answers she couldn’t find.
