Her pupils expand until there’s no visible colour left in her irises. “You shouldn’t be here,” she says in a gentle voice.
“Why not?” When she doesn’t immediately answer, I grab her arm, tugging her closer to me. “What happened?”
“Your dad happened.” She unhooks herself from my grasping fingers, turning back to her note. “He paid me to clear out of your life and that’s exactly what I’m doing.”
“He can’t make you leave.”
Her eyes rest on me, the black depths swallowing my confusion and giving nothing back. “He’s not making me leave. I’m the one who chose this when I took his money.”
Raw panic tries to spiral into anger. When my father told me not to get involved, I didn’t know he was this serious.
My rage is useless but the money…? I can work with money. “Whatever he’s paying you to go, I’ll pay you double to stay.”
She shakes her head, folding the notepaper in half and propping it on the bench. It’s addressed to Larry, her landlord. Underneath are crisp clean notes.
“Didn’t you hear me?” I demand when she tries to walk past.
“Sure. You’re going to pay me with what? Your father’s money? I doubt he’ll be keen on that.” She moves to the bathroom, gathering a towel and putting it on the floor, immediately loading goods into the centre.
“I have my own inheritance. Nothing to do with him.” She doesn’t bat an eye. “For fucks’ sake, would you stop?”
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
Evie squats, the vanity cabinet open in front of her, knees not touching the floor and I don’t blame her. The peeled and chipped linoleum must have a generation worth of filth caught in its cracks.
But it’s her eyes that catch my attention. Her voice might disguise the fact, but her expression shows me how deeply she’s hurt.
“I thought you…” but she shakes her head as she trails off, attention turning back to the task. “You could have said about the people who were injured in the fire. I was never going to narc on you.”
“That wasn’t why.” She narrows her eyes at me, and I concede, “It was part of it but not the main reason. I like you. I told you that from the start.”
“Yeah, you did. A second before you asked to drug me unconscious.” Even her laugh is gentle, gracious considering the circumstances. “I really like you, too, but I like your dad’s money more.” This time her smile has sharper edges. “And it comes with far fewer strings attached.”
She’s not the girl I sent off this morning on a fun day’s shopping. My Evie hides in there, just visible through the cracks in this worldly façade.
I guess I’m staring at the same armour she donned to get onto a stage half naked, then remove more clothes. The same mask she must wear while fishing tips out of her G-string; a good disguise until you glimpse the haunted eyes peering out from behind.
“Please don’t do this.”
Toilet paper and knock off brand shampoo go into the towel. A moon cup in its satin bag. A giant tub of Vaseline and a box of plasters.
“Where will you go?”
She sits farther back on her heels, scanning the small room, then bundles the towel into her hands. I think she won’t answer, and a nibble of panic turns into a large bite. “Back down to Dunedin. Once Ant’s completed treatment, we’ll figure out someplace more permanent.”
“The treatment I paid for.”
A flash of anger sparks in her darkened eyes. “No, the treatmentIpaid for.”
I think she’s referencing what I made her do, then she pushes the supermarket bag at me again. I take it, opening it to see cash sorted into neat bundles. Thirty thousand. It doesn’t make any sense. “He paid you thirty grand to leave?”
“No, he paid me fifty.”
I’m genuinely stunned.
“For what it’s worth, I would have preferred to stay, but I can’t afford to fight him. You know he could crush me if he wanted.”
I blurt, “A hundred to stay.”
