“It’s the trust documents. I opened it today, transferred all of my money into it, and put you three in charge of it. It’s for Lily.”
Still cautious, Alex took it from me. Surprise sprouted color in his cheeks, drawing my eyes to those glass-cutter cheekbones. “The Silly Lily Fund? What the hell’s this?”
“What it is is nothing more than what Lily is owed. From her mother to her—that’s how it’s supposed to be.”
Yes, it was true. Like the big, dense, stupid softie I was, I transferred all of Sue’s money into an account for Lily. I had no problem stealing from that evil succubus, but I did have a big problem with stealing from her daughter. Now that Sue was gone, everything she had rightfully belonged to the child she left behind—and no amount of righteous rage could justify doing otherwise.
There you go, big sis. The last and only kind thing I’m owed you. Now you can continue frying in hell.
“Listen,” I rasped, “I know you don’t have to respect my wishes, but I called it the Silly Lily Fund because I hope you’ll use the money for all those silly, impractical things that young girls want growing up, but are always told are a waste of time and money.
“This house was always such a mausoleum,” I heard myself say. “The only time there was ever laughter or joy in these halls was when I was running around, playing with the staff’s kids, and even that ended at five o’clock.
“Did you know Omma made u—me justify every single item on my birthday and Christmas lists? Every single club or camp I wanted to join?” I burst out. “Everything that wasn’t food, clothes, or academics had to be defended and justified.Why do you need a kid’s salon set? Are you planning on being a hairdresser? If you’re not going to be a hairdresser, why do you want to play around with fake hair when you should be studying to achieve your true goals?”
I huffed a frustrated groan like I did all those times before. “Just don’t do that to her, okay? Don’t make her beg to have fun, or be a kid. Tell hershe’s got forty thousand dollars’ worth of silliness to take advantage of in the next twelve years, so don’t use that money wisely.”
“We’re not going to tell her that,” Micah deadpanned, his lips quirked up into something resembling a smile. “But what we’re also not going to do, and you can trust this, is raise Lily the way your mother raised you. She’s going to be much happier than you were, Sue.” His gaze pinned me through. “Because we’ve seen the result of what happens if she’s not.”
I flinched, jerking back like he hit me. Micah meant that comment to hit Sue, but it struck me just as squarely. I grew up in the same house with the same parents, and I was a failure.
I was what you got when a family like mine chewed you up and spat you out.
“But,” Micah continued, tipping my chin up. “Why are you talking like this? Like you’re never going to see her again? Is that what you want?” he asked. “To walk out the door and out of her life, and never come bac—”
“No,” I barked, blurting it out before sense could stop me. “Of course, I don’t want that. I want to see her as often and as much as you’ll let me. I love her.”
The words were out of my mouth, and I knew they were true. Frankly, I was always one of those people who made silly faces at babies in the grocery store, and volunteered at children’s homes during the holidays just to see their little faces light up when they opened their presents. I loved every kid and baby I came across, but Lily was special from the moment I laid eyes on her.
This was the baby with my hair, my face, my unique eyes, and my last name. The one I’d been waiting twenty-eight years to meet. The one I so desperately wanted to have one day. And I had already decided at our very first meeting that I’d be the best auntie this girl ever had—it wouldn’t even matter that I was her only one.
“I want to see her after everything is said and done,” I told them in a calmer tone. “But I understand that you three need to trust me with her first.”
Rhodes sighed, scrubbing his face. “Sue, come on, we’re not going to keepher—”
“You’re right,” Alex broke in, clamping a hand on Rhodes’s shoulder. “You do need to earn our trust before there’s any thought of you having further contact with Lily after you leave. You’ve treated our daughter like a nuisance since the first bout of morning sickness, and nothing’s changed since. You’ve almost got her believing that it’s normal, or even right, for a child to beg and plead for her mother’s attention.
“You’re done fucking with her, Sue, and you’re done fucking with us. You want trust, earn it,” he gritted. “And you start by putting everything you just said into writing. No divorce, no child support, no alimony, and no staying here past the funeral. Write it, sign it, and make eight copies for all of us, and our lawyers.
“Do it today, or we’ve got nothing more to talk about.”
I tipped my head. “I can do this today.” Pulling out Sue’s phone, I showed them the screen, and the recorder app. “Everything we said and all of my conditions, loud and clear for the lawyers to hear. I’ll send you guys a copy now.
“I want this to work,” I said. “I want us to live peacefully in this house until the end, and I want that for my mother. Omma was cold, strict, and unforgiving. She cared too much what outsiders thought and concerned herself more with looking like the perfect family than actually being one, but she was the mother I needed when it counted. So I’ll be here for her... when it counts.”
Micah, Rhodes, and Alex didn’t seem to know what to say to that, so they didn’t reply.
“I told work that Lily’s sick and I won’t be back,” Micah said as all three of them turned their back on me. “I’ve got her from here. You can go back to whatever you were doing, Sue.”
Dismissals didn’t get much clearer than that.
The three of them went toward Lily’s room, so I went the other way—heading for the east wing staircase that spilled out into the front room, and therefore the hallway that would take me to Omma. If I was staying here and keeping up this charade for my mother, then I should be with my mother—spending as much time with her as time allowed.
My fingers glided along the railing, leading the way across the landing. I passed by the east wing hallway—the only part of the manor I’d yet to revisit since coming home.
I did not return to the corridor, but the corridor returned to me. Fractured memories of my bare feet on the red-carpeted floor. The lone flickering bulb with the dead bug stuck to it, flickering its shadowy little corpse on the wall like an omen. And the screams.
Always... the screams.
