I don't deflect this time.
“I want to press charges, Adela––”
"Mom, I know," I say.
“I want her to––”
“Mom, I said no. I said no. You’re going to drop it.”
“But Adela––”
“If you do anything, I will not forgive you.”
“Why are you protecting her? She could hurt someone else. Adela, you could have––”
My mother would never understand, and I don’t need her to. “Mom. I’m not having this conversation again, okay? I said no. You need to drop it.”
"Are you choosing for yourself?" she huffs, changing the subject immediately. "Whatever you're doing, Adela — is it yours? Did you decide it?"
I close my eyes and think about the lake house. Theo. Cody. Beckett.
"Yes," I say. "It's mine. I decided."
My mother is quiet for a moment.
"Okay," she says finally. "That's all I needed to know. I've been worried about you. How is your leg?"
We talk for a few more minutes about ordinary things — physical therapy, classes, whether I'm eating enough. She doesn't ask for details about the men from the waiting room. Doesn't press for explanations about Cody or why I don’t want to press charges against Nessa Rhodes.
"You can always transfer back to Puget Sound and come home," she says softly.
"No, Mom. I'm staying at UW. I want to stay here." I pause. "It's not for Cody. It's for me, okay? I promise. I'm choosing this for myself. And I'm not far from home. I'll be back this weekend."
"I know, sweetheart. I just want to make sure you know you always have options."
After we hang up, I stand in the hallway for a moment.
I think about my mother in that waiting room with three men.
I think about I know more than you think.
I think that my mom has always been smarter than anyone gave her credit for.
When I come back to the living room, Beckett looks up from his phone.
"Everything okay?"
"Yeah." I sink back onto the couch beside him. "My mom was just checking in."
"How is she?"
"Good. Worried, but good." I pull the blanket back around my shoulders. "My father's been quiet since the hospital. I don't know if he’s okay."
Beckett nods slowly. "Probably waiting to see what happens next."
"Yeah." I lean my head against his shoulder. "Probably."
We sit like that for a while, the TV still playing something neither of us is watching, the rain still hitting the window.
