Then there were also the three hundred dollars buried in my socks, the corners scratching against my feet. Imagining all the food that money could buy made my mouth water. No more depending on Marlene to remember us, at least not for a littlebit. If I was thrifty, it might last us three to four weeks, even after treating Boyan and Lou to takeout and ice cream once or twice.
With my backpack lost to the fire, I tucked my new treasure under my jeans, between my hip and my underwear—so no one would see it—and got a move on. With the sun setting, I’d already been away too long.
I jogged up the steps to the house, clutching my prize in place, and let myself inside quietly.
“Ainsley, dear, is that you?” Marlene asked with way too much shrill cheer. I cringed with shivers. “We were so worried about you.”
Great, she had guests over. I treaded down the hallway and through the living room, hoping a little wave and tepid “Hi” would be enough. I started my wave on my pass by the archway to the dining room, only to freeze halfway through. A cop rose from his seat, his chair scratching along the hardwood. He wore the standard dark-blue uniform, the yellow and light-blue police patch sewn over both shoulders.
“This your daughter, ma’am?”
“Foster daughter.” Marlene’s unnatural smile dragged up her pudgy cheeks and wrinkles, giving her a sweet and unassuming look, belied by the tight blonde coils framing her face.
I’d seen the act before. The moment he left, her good mood was going to flop back out of existence, so I didn’t pay it much mind. That cop, though, had a bored veneer to his nonchalant demeanor, almost as if he’d rather not be there at all, like it was a waste of his precious time. Something about his eyes just seemed off. He seemed like the type who pretended to be your best friend until he plunged a knife in your back.
“Ainsley.” Her voice pitched higher as she snapped her fingers in front of my face. Jeez, when had she gotten so close? “Answer, girl. I asked where’ve you been?”
“I…” I glanced back and forth between her and the cop. “I took a detour from the library and got lost.”
“Well, I’m just glad you’re home safely.” She pulled my hair loose from my ponytail and split it over my shoulders. I held still, wondering when this freak show would end. She bent in as if to hug me, then whispered in my ear, “I know you stole from me.”
I knew exactly what that was code for. The moment this cop left, Marlene wouldn’t hold back.
Keeping my face flat, I stepped back into the hallway. “If you’ll excuse me, I’m going to go check on the kids.”
As I reached the top step of the staircase, my new phone buzzed against my hip. Thank my lucky stars it hadn’t happened any earlier. In the safety of my room, I pulled it out. A message popped up from someone programmed as “Boss.”
Ms. Burch, I hope I don’t need to clarify that today’s events are to remain between us.
If needed, I am happy to ask Mrs. Hayes’ visitor to give you a reminder.
A lick of fear rushed down my spine. He knew where I lived. Oh god, he knew the cop.
The front door banged shut, and I rushed to the window. The officer walked down the outside steps. He crossed the street a few houses down and plopped down into the driver’s seat of a black sedan I’d never seen on this street before. The sedan wasn’t odd on its own. The neighborhood was decently nice, and the make of the car wasn’t a luxury model, but it was exceedingly clean and new, shining from rim to roof. How many cops were in Iannelli’s pocket?
Not needed.
Good.
I let loose a shaky breath. His earlier threat of cutting me limb from limb echoed in my head. This was a whole new brand of mind fuckery. I changed his contact name in the phone to “Jerkwad.”
A flash of pale movement on the driveway pulled my attention. Mrs. Roberts from across the street sashayed up the Hayeses’ driveway in a pink-flowered satin robe over her knee-length, tight-fitted dress.
The doorbell rang. Good-for-nothing, nosy-ass neighbor. That woman loved to gossip about everyone and anything, always trying to bring others down. She certainly would never lift a finger to help anyone, especially not us tainted, dirty little guttersnipes, as she liked to call us. I’d asked her to watch Lou and Boyan once in an emergency, but she refused. I’d begged her for some food the first time the Hayeses starved me as punishment. She’d complained to Marlene, causing me to lose another day’s worth of food. She’d watched us leave for school many times, curled in on ourselves, limping or bruised, and never done anything. Yet thanks to her, the neighborhood thought we foster kids were rowdy, disobedient, and dishonest.
The front door squeaked open. Mrs. Roberts’ phony animated voice cleaved through the relative quiet. She’d keep Marlene occupied for a good fifteen minutes at least.
The phone buzzed again, this time with an image. I clicked download, worrying for a split second if maybe it was something incriminating. The photo loaded, and I zoomed in, eyes wide. It couldn’t be.
There was Noah, in the suit he used for job interviews, his hairstyle matching the last cut he got weeks before his death. He stood at the back of our parents’ hybrid hatchback with its trunk open. Aviators covered his eyes, but I could tell how tense he was from his locked jaw, the stiff hold of his shoulders, and the way he buried his hands in his pants pockets. That wassomething he only used to do when he was nervous. I caressed the screen with my index finger. Oh, Noah.
There was someone bent over the back of our car, packing in rows of white packages. The guy wore a leather sleeveless vest with a design of a skull and wings on the back, while his arm and the back of his shaved head were covered in so many tattoos, I couldn’t distinguish one from the other. A set of dilapidated buildings stood in the background across the street, the red paint chipped and fading, and graffiti covered the bottom half. Two motorcycles stood on the opposite side.
I hope this clarifies your brother’s extracurricular activities.
I swallowed down an excess of saliva, suddenly feeling faint. Those white packages had to be drugs. My eyes filled with tears. There had to be a better explanation than Noah willingly playing a part in this. A sob escaped me, and a tear splashed onto the phone. I couldn’t think of an excuse. Oh god, he really did join them. I squeezed my eyes shut tight, a rush of tears flowing down my cheeks. The worst part was that I knew why. It was because of me. Because I’d been stupid and demanding and pushy and spoiled. He took a dangerous job because I’d pushed him into feeling like he needed to bring in more money.
This changes nothing. You’re still the reason he died.
