I enter my phone number, press send, and close the tab. I stare at the remaining two messages, then reluctantly log in to my student loan account. It’s time I faced reality. I have trouble finding the balance, so I click on the list of transactions. I refresh the page twice to confirm.
“Shit,” I whisper. “No.”
My balance is now zero.
Zero.
I no longer have a student loan. Someone’s paid it off in full, and there’s only one potential culprit. I can hear him brushing his teeth in the ensuite.
“What did you do?”
“Morning, sunshine.” He comes into the room wearing only a towel. A toothbrush hangs from the side of his mouth like a cigarette. “How did you sleep?”
“I got an interesting email this morning. About my student loan.”
“You’re not looking at a screen, are you?” he says in mock-disgust. “Don’t you know those things spew radiation? They’re literally poison.”
“Shut up.” I’m irritated by his chirpiness. It’s been less than twenty-four hours since he killed his wife. Shouldn’t it torture him? He must have hated her more than I thought. “Was it you?”
“I can neither confirm nor deny.”
“That’s an insane thing to do. How could you afford it?”
“I moved some money around. I can absolutely afford it, or at least I will be able to once the estate is settled.”
He drops his towel and gets changed in front of me. I look at the scar Grace gave him. It’s long and vertical, like she was trying to gut him like a fish. Only a few inches to the side, and she would have killed him.
“And?”
“And you shouldn’t have done it.”
“That’s a strange thank you.”
“I’m not sure it is one.”
“I know it’s a shock to get something you want and for life to go your way, for once.” He finishes getting dressed, then jumps onto the bed. I squeal in surprise. “But you should get used to it. From now on, you’ll have whatever you want. Every single day.”
“I don’t need this. It’s your money, not mine.”
“It’sours. I really want you to believe that. I know this is a lot, but I meant what I said. I’ve fallen in love with you.” He kisses my cheek, then holds out his hand. “Come down for breakfast.”
“Give me a second.
As he leaves, I try to convince myself that it’s sweet. He couldn’t wait to make a grand gesture. But for the payment to be confirmed in my account now, he must have made it last night, the same day he killed his wife. Or even the day before. And it feels wrong to take Grace’s money like that.
My mother’s voice rings out, so clear that I half-expect her to be standing in the room behind me.
That’s your conscience talking.
Still, I’m relieved. I’d had nightmares about that loan. At least once a day, I’d feel my chest tighten at the prospect of paying it back.
But more than relief, I feel that sense of excitement. Because, despite my conscience, I want this life.
I wantherlife. I wanted it since my first day at Pine Ridge.
It’s terrible to admit. Does it make me a bad person? She was going to kill me. In a way, this is justice being served. It’s like a fairy tale. The evil witch has been killed, and now the servant girl is free to marry the prince.
But if that’s true, why won’t the voice of my mother shut the hell up?
