Of course,everyoneseemed to know everyone here, so thatwasn’t really unusual.
“I was gonna say,” Max said as the customer left, but he stoppedas soon as Ash came back into the room.
Connor liked Ash, who’d been quick to introduce himself and his partnerwhen Connor had first come into the store, but right now, he wanted to murderhim.
“Are you two conspiring about something important?” he asked,looking between them. “Because I need to borrow Max for a minute to reach somestuff in the store room.”
Max gave Connor a wry smile, and then turned to Ash. “Nothingsuper important. Lead the way.”
Ash beckoned for Max to follow him, and Connor watched them bothleave, sipping his too-hot coffee and sighing heavily.
He closed the magazine and tucked it back into his bag, acceptingthat it was a stupid idea that would never work. At least he could fill in thecrossword puzzles later.
Chapter Four
Max groaned as he shrugged his coat off, his shoulders protestingat being moved too much. He’d been on his feet most of the day, and he wasreallyready to sleep right now.
Thursdays and Fridays were the worst, when the bowling alley wasopen until midnight and he had a shift at the bookstore beforehand. It meant hespent almost fourteen hours on his feet, with only a half-hour between shiftsto get from one place to the other and shove something in his mouth along theway.
Not that he wasn’t grateful. He needed every hour of work that hecould get.
Max felt his way into the kitchen in the dark, not wanting to drawattention to the fact that he’d just gotten in. He wasn’t sure if his mom washome, since the car was in the driveway, but she walked to work a lot, and thelast thing he wanted to do was wake Zoe.
She needed all the sleep she could get.
He poured himself a glass of tap water, breathing a sigh of reliefas he took the first sip. He needed to start bringing bottled water to work, ifonly for the walk home. The bookstore wasn’t so far, but the bowling alley wasa lot further after a long day.
Max swallowed his water down greedily, a few drops escaping thesides of his mouth and rolling down his chin, soaking into the collar of hist-shirt.
As his ears stopped pounding from the long walk and the need forwater, the sound of someone sobbing reached his ears.
Zoe.
Max’s heart sank all the way down to his stomach.
His mom probably wasn’t home if Zoe was crying. She’d already beracing to help her.
Which meant it was up to him this time, no matter how much hewanted to go up to his room and pass out.
Instead, he mounted the stairs and turned to Zoe’s door, openingit just a crack to poke his head in.
“Hey,” he said softly. “What’s up?”
“Hurts,” Zoe complained in the tiniest voice. She was thirteen,but she seemed impossibly small when she was in pain.
And she was in pain so often these days. Max had watched her gofrom being a happy, active kid to being cooped up in her room all day andmiserable. He hated to see her like this, but he knew it was a thousand timesworse for her.
“When did you last take something?” Max asked.
“Ten, I think?” Zoe said. “What time is it?”
“Little after midnight,” Max responded, his heart breaking. Toosoon for another dose of painkillers, even for breakthrough pain.
That was happening more and more lately. The balance between notpoisoning her and not leaving her in pain was apparently hard to strike for herdoctors. Max had no idea whether or not that was right, but he hated to see hislittle sister upset, and he wished he could dosomethingabout it.
He was trying, but it wasn’t enough. She needed surgery, and nomatter how many hours he worked, the cost seemed so far out of their reach thatit’d never happen.
It was times like this he missed his dad the most. One more pairof hands might have been enough.
