by Callie Rose
Sky-gray, blue, green, and amber.
15
“My preliminary hearing is set for next week.”
Mom doesn’t sound hopeful as she says those words, and I don’t blame her.
The odds of the judge dismissing this case are so slim they’re practically non-existent. Mom doesn’t have an alibi for the window of time in which Iris was murdered, and Iris’s DNA has been found on her car—I don’t know what else the state’s attorney has on her, but that alone is enough to make anyone suspicious.
“Are you ready?” I ask softly, scooting closer to the glass pane that separates us.
“I hope so.” She gives me a wan smile, but it slips off her face immediately. “Low, I had to switch to a court-appointed lawyer. Leda was great, but I just couldn’t afford her. She got us off to a really good start though, and my new lawyer seems okay so far. He said he’ll use everything she’s established and build on it, and we’ll present the best case we can.”
My heart freezes in my chest. One of the only things that’s been helping me sleep at night is knowing my mom has the best representation out there.
Or, had.
“How much was she? Maybe I can help pay for it. I can—”
“No.” Mom shakes her head, her voice firm. She only uses that tone when she’s dead serious about something. “I’m not having you get behind in your classes or miss school just so you can help me afford a lawyer. That’s why they have court-appointed ones—for the people who can’t afford one.”
I bite down on my cheek so hard I taste blood, frustration burning through me like a lick of fire. I know Mom doesn’t want me to give up my life to help her, but it’s not fucking fair. She gave up so much of hers to help me.
Maybe I could win some cash playing poker, but unlike when mom was working too and I just slipped it into her bank account under the radar, now that she’s in prison and her funds are dwindling, she’d definitely notice the extra money and want to know where it came from.
I’d honestly be willing to risk her anger and disappointment… if I was sure I’d win. But I’m so fucked up in the head right now, I know I’d be off my game, and I can’t risk losing money she needs.
Which leaves me in the same position I’ve been in for the past three weeks—as a helpless witness to my mom’s destruction.
“Is there anything I can do?” I plead.
“I don’t think so, sweetheart.” She runs a hand through her hair, which looks limp and dull, as if her entire body is worn down from the stress. “Just keep coming to see me. That helps.”
It helps me too. But it’s not enough. There has to be something else I can do.
There is, a voice whispers in the back of my head. Prove it was someone else.
“Hey, Mom…” I glance over my shoulder casually. The guard behind me looks bored as hell, and Lincoln’s waiting outside, so I don’t know who I thought might be eavesdropping. Turning back to face the glass, I ask the question that’s been eating at me for days. “Did Mr. Black ever make a pass at you?”
Her eyebrows shoot up. As far as she’s concerned, this is an abrupt subject change out of left field—which means she has no suspicion that Samuel Black set her up. And why would she? He’s gone out of his way to make it seem like he’s helping her, like he’s on her side.
“No!” She scoffs, but almost as soon as the word is out of her mouth, she purses her lips like she’s reconsidering her answer. “Well, he’s always been a little extra friendly. Happy to have company. But that’s all. I think he’s just lonely. Audrey isn’t the most…” She waves her hand as she tries to think of the word.
Human?
Fully conscious?
She gives up on trying to find the perfect word to describe Linc’s mother and shakes her head.
“He… I think he likes me. He likes to talk with me, and yeah, I’m pretty sure I caught him checking me out once. But he’s never made a move on me or anything. I wouldn’t have stayed if he had.”
I believe that. My mom isn’t the type to be the other woman or to break up a marriage, even if it’s on the rocks already.
What I’m not so sure of, however, is her assessment of Mr. Black’s character. And her claim that he only checked her out once. Maybe she only noticed once, but that’s because Mom is utterly oblivious to those kinds of things most of the time.
Still, it’s a relief to know he wasn’t going after her hard. That he didn’t try to force her or coerce her or anything.
“When you guys talked, did he ever mention… anyone else? Anyone who wasn’t Audrey?”
We’re veering into very weird territory, and judging from the lift of Mom’s eyebrows, she knows it. I’m wondering if Samuel Black ever gave her any hint of his relationship with Iris, but I don’t want to come right out and say the dead girl’s name.
“Low…” Mom’s voice drops as she leans closer to the glass divide, worry pinching her brows together. “Did he ever make a pass at you?”
“No!” My denial is about as fervent as hers was.
Thank God, no.
In fact, up until last week, I kind of liked the guy. He could be a little too friendly, and I knew Linc had issues with him because of the philandering example he set. But I’d always felt like, those interpersonal issues aside, he was a basically decent human being.
Now?
I don’t fucking know anymore.
Mom’s regarding me suspiciously, her hand clutching the phone by her ear. And more to help her sleep at night than to defend Mr. Black’s integrity, I say, “Really, Mom. No. He never hit on me or anything. I just overheard him and Audrey having a fight the other day and was being nosy, that’s all.”
She relaxes a little, blowing out a breath. “Okay. God, I’d never forgive myself if I brought you into a house where a man…” She shakes her head, not even finishing the thought. Then she looks up at me, a hint of a spark lighting in her eyes. “Are you and Lincoln dating?”
“What?”
Now I’m the one caught flat-footed.
I normally don’t keep anything from my mom, but the way Linc and I started was so messed up, and there were so many parts of the picture I couldn’t fill in for her, that I never told her about it at all. And I definitely haven’t told her about what happened in the pool house last night.
“Samuel mentioned something about it.” She smiles. “I think it’s great. He’s cute. And I’m glad you have a shoulder to lean on right now.”
Then she reaches out with the phone and taps it against the glass, scowling. When she puts it back to her ear, she adds, “But these are the kinds of things a daughter should tell her mother. I know it’s weird talking like this”—she gestures around us, encompassing the correctional facility visiting area—“but we need to get used to it.”
There are words implicit in her statement that she doesn’t speak aloud.
We need to get used to it… because it might be this way for a long, long time.
Linc’s fingers thread through mine on the way back to the house, our joined hands resting on my lap. Music blares through the speakers, and little flurries of snow drift through the air outside the windshield. The cloudy sky is pure white, and although it’s still bright out, everything seems drab in this harsh, colorless light.
It all seems to match my mood too perfectly. I miss the buttery sunshine of Arizona.
When we reach the Black mansion and head in through the side door from the motor court, delicious smells are floating out from the kitchen. Gwen usually does a pretty elaborate meal on Sundays, and I think it’s the only night of the week the family always eats together. I never paid all that much attention to it because I was usually up in Mom’s apartment, sharing meals with her.
Mr. Black catches us before we reach the stairs, his usual beaming smile in place. It makes my skin crawl in a way it never used to.
“Ah! Just the two people I was looking for.” He turns to me, his smile melting into a look of sympathy and concern. “H
ow is your mother?”
“She’s fine.”
I don’t mention the fact that she had to let her private lawyer go. I’m not telling him shit about my mom, not giving him anything else he can use against her.
His eyelids flicker slightly, like he can tell from my voice that I’m lying or hiding something. But I just gaze blandly back until he shakes his head and reaffixes his smile.
“I’m glad to hear that. Keeping her spirits up is so important. She’s lucky she has you.”
“What do you need, dad?” Lincoln asks, draping an arm possessively around my shoulders. He doesn’t seem to like his dad talking to me, and although our reasons might not be the same, I agree with him wholeheartedly.
“Well, I thought I’d ask Harlow if she’d like to join us for dinner.” The strands of silver hair at Samuel’s temples gleam as he inclines his head in the direction of the kitchen. “Gwen’s making lamb. I know it’s a little late to do the whole ‘meet the parents’ thing, but I thought since you two are dating now, we should all get to know each other a little better.”
I go still in Linc’s embrace. Fuck no, I don’t want to have dinner with Samuel Black. But I don’t know how to get out of it without making it awkward or suspicious, so when his gaze lands on me, I nod.
“Sure. I’d love that. Thanks for the invite.”
“Wonderful! I’ll tell Gwen to set an extra place at the table. We’ll eat at seven.”
He strides toward the kitchen, and Lincoln tilts his head to look down at me. “You don’t have to, Low. Those dinners are usually boring as fuck.”
“No, it’s okay.” My arm went around his waist when he draped his around my shoulders, and I grip him a little tighter before stepping back. “I didn’t know what I was gonna do for dinner anyway. I should study a little before we eat though.”
I press a quick kiss to his lips before escaping upstairs, but I can feel his gaze on my back as I hustle up the steps. He knows something is bothering me, and it’s only a matter of time before he demands to know what it is.
We arrived back at the house at 3:30, so I do some serious studying for the next few hours. Finals are right around the corner, and I’m honestly not prepared for them.
At 6:30, I change into a nicer outfit—I’m not really sure what the protocol is for these things, but I want to look like I at least made an effort—and at a little before seven o’clock, I make my way downstairs.
The dining room is in the west wing of the house, separated from the grand foyer by a large, arched doorway. There’s a fireplace on one wall, and a mahogany table in the middle of the room.
I’m a few minutes early, and the only person in the room when I arrive is Audrey. She’s seated at one end of the table, and she looks up sharply as I enter. I’m so used to her movements being slow and languid, like there’s a half-second time delay between her brain and her body, that I blink.
Maybe I’m just imagining it, but her eyes look a little clearer than usual, more focused.
It often seems like Audrey Black isn’t quite all there, but tonight, she’s definitely here, and she’s definitely pissed.
Super.
Is she mad because I’m having dinner with them? Maybe she really didn’t know that Lincoln and I are sort of together until she saw us kiss last night before the party. I was shocked at how little Mr. Black seemed to care—maybe it’s asking too much for Linc’s mom to be okay with him dating the help too.
“Hello.” She gives me a curt nod.
“Um, hi.”
I smile awkwardly, hovering in the doorway because I have no idea where to sit. There are four table settings laid out, and I’m positive the one at the head of the table is for Samuel, so that gives me a fifty percent chance of guessing right between the other two. Still, I don’t like those odds enough to try.
And fortunately, Lincoln arrives less than a minute later, followed almost immediately by his father. Mr. Black takes his expected seat at the head of the table, and Lincoln holds a chair out for me before sitting in the other one.
“So, are you two getting excited about winter break? It’ll be here before you know it.”
Samuel glances from me to Linc as Gwen emerges from the kitchen with what I’m guessing is the first of a few courses. She shoots me a look as she sets the dishes down, and I can’t tell if it’s approving or disapproving—but she definitely has an opinion on me joining the family for dinner.
“I haven’t even thought about it much,” I admit honestly.
“Ah, yes.” He grimaces. “Of course.”
There’s a small noise from the other side of the table, and I shoot a subtle glance over, expecting to find Audrey glaring at me. But she’s not. Her glare is fixed firmly on her husband.
Oh.
So maybe she’s not pissed about me after all. Maybe this has to do with their fight yesterday. It didn’t really seem like it ended well, even though they looked like the picture of a happy couple when they walked down the stairs to the party.
Lincoln’s dad must be able to see it—must be able to feel the burning heat of it—but he ignores Audrey’s death glare, beaming jovially as he asks Linc and me more questions about school and other harmless topics.
Gwen comes back a little while later to take our dishes and replace them with new ones. The lamb smells and looks delicious, but it feels like rubber in my mouth as I force myself to chew and swallow. I wish I could enjoy it, but everything about this dinner is making my nerves prickle.
It’s like Audrey and Samuel Black are in different dimensions—the energy coming from each end of the table is so diametrically opposed that it’s hard to believe they can exist in the same room.
Audrey is furious.
And Samuel knows it, but he refuses to acknowledge it.
The tension gathering in the room makes my stomach twist and clench around every bite of food I take, until I stop trying to force myself to eat altogether.
Does Linc’s mom know something? Did she find out what Samuel did?
As dessert arrives, Mr. Black launches into an excited explanation of their holiday travel plans. He and Audrey will be heading to a private ski lodge in Aspen, Colorado. Apparently, it’s been a tradition for the past several years for him and his wife to take a trip—just the two of them—before coming home to celebrate Christmas as a family.
I think it’s a little shitty that they don’t include their only son in their holiday travels, but even more than that, it boils my blood to hear him talking so casually about going on a fucking vacation when my mom will be behind bars all that time.
My contributions to the conversation become shorter and more clipped, and it’s taking all my willpower not to explode on him. Finally, I can’t take it anymore.
After forcing down a few bites of dessert, I blurt out, “I—I don’t feel well.”
Samuel stops speaking and turns to take in my appearance, his brows pulling together. “You do look pale. Do you need—”
“No. Nothing. I just think I need to lie down for a little while.”
“Of course.” He nods, then glances at Lincoln, dismissing him with a look.
Lincoln pushes his chair back and comes over to pull mine out again, helping me stand. Concern and confusion flicker in his amber eyes.
As we head toward the door, I glance back. “Thank you for the dinner invitation. It was… lovely.”
The word tastes like ash on my tongue, but Samuel beams.
Lincoln keeps his arm wrapped around my waist as we head up the stairs, like he’s afraid I might fall down them if I’m not supported. When we get to my room, he deposits me on the bed and then goes back to close the door, leaning against it with his arms folded as I perch on the end of the mattress.
“What the fuck is going on, Low? What are you not telling me?”
His voice is hard, and I know that although he’s concerned for me, he’s not dumb enough to believe my abrupt exit from dinner is just because of a simple stomach ache.
I convinced River not to tell him for a little while, but maybe that was a bad idea to begin with. I can’t keep my suspicions from him indefinitely, and the longer I wait, the worse it will be—because it won’t just be his dad’s possible betrayal, but mine too.
So I tell him.
I open my mouth and spill everything I know, from the paternity test I found in his dad’s study to what Savannah told me about Iris being with an older man to the fight I overhead yesterday.
Linc doesn’t say anything as I talk, letting me speak uninterrupted until I finally run out of things to say. He doesn’t move either. His body is still as a statue, and his face impassive as silence falls in the space between us.
“I don’t know,” I add, unable to stand the quiet. “Maybe I’m wrong. When I first found the paternity test, I thought it was about you. That he thought maybe your mom had cheated or something, and he wasn’t sure he was your real dad. Maybe that is what it’s about.”
I almost told Linc about the paternity test once before, when I wanted to lash out and hurt him somehow. I hadn’t, because it had felt like too serious of a truth to use against someone like that. But now, in the midst of all the shit piling down on us, the idea that his mom had an affair is actually one of the more pleasant possibilities.
Lincoln shakes his head, and I can see the gears turning in his mind as he processes everything I just told him.
“No,” he says slowly. “The paternity test definitely wasn’t about me. My dad knows I’m his kid, and even if Audrey hooked up with someone else, it wouldn’t change that fact.”
“But how could he know that? What if she—”
“Because Audrey’s not my birth mother.” His amber eyes burn as his gaze finds mine. “She’s my stepmother.”
16
I blink at him. “What?”
“Audrey’s not my mom by birth,” Linc mutters, and although he’s answering me, I have a feeling his mind is a thousand miles away. “My real mom died just after I was born, and my dad married Audrey before I was a year old. So she’s the only mother I’ve ever really known, but we don’t share DNA. Even if my dad thought she cheated on him, he still wouldn’t worry about whether he’s my father.”