Chương 4
When I finished, she folded her hands over her purse.
"Your mother knows where you live."
"Yes."
"She has a key?"
"No."
That answer came too quickly.
Rosa caught it.
"Maya."
"She had one."
"Had?"
"We changed the locks after she let herself in while we were gone."
Rosa stared at me.
"When?"
"Last Christmas."
"And you did not think this was information worth mentioning?"
"It sounded worse when I said it out loud."
"It was worse before you said it out loud."
Hazel started fussing again.
Rosa stood automatically and hovered, then stopped herself.
"May I?"
I handed her the baby.
The sight of somebody else holding Hazel produced an unexpected bolt of panic.
I almost took her back immediately.
Then Rosa adjusted the blanket under Hazel's chin and began humming badly.
Hazel quieted.
I felt foolish and relieved at the same time.
"You need sleep," Rosa said.
"I need my family to stop committing felonies before lunch."
"Also sleep."
My phone rang.
Penny.
Rosa looked at the screen and then at me.
"Answer."
I almost didn't.
Then I remembered Deputy Cole's question about the children.
I put the call on speaker.
"Penny."
"Oh, thank God."
My sister's voice came out low and urgent.
"Where are Lily and Noah?"
There was a silence.
Then she said, "Seriously?"
"Yes."
"That's the first thing you're going to say to me?"
"Where are your children?"
"They're safe."
"Where?"
"With Mom."
My stomach dropped.
"Both of them?"
Another pause.
"Mostly."
I gripped the edge of the mattress.
"What does mostly mean?"
"Don't start."
"Penny."
"Noah is with Mom."
"And Lily?"
"She's with me."
"Where are you?"
"Why?"
"Because the sheriff went to your apartment."
The line went dead quiet.
Rosa stopped humming.
"You called the police?"
"I called for a welfare check because Mom told me armed criminals were threatening your children."
"I never said armed."
I stared at the phone.
"That's what you're correcting?"
"You had no right to call cops to my house."
"Your house has an eviction notice on it."
Penny inhaled sharply.
"Jesus Christ."
"So this is about rent?"
"No."
"Then what is it about?"
"I told you, I owe people."
"What people?"
"You wouldn't know them."
"Names."
"Why?"
"Because if somebody is threatening Lily and Noah, I am going to report it."
Penny gave a small, bitter laugh.
"Of course you are."
"What does that mean?"
"It means you're so military about everything."
Rosa's eyebrows went up.
"You think every problem needs paperwork and rules and somebody in charge."
"You asked me for ten thousand dollars."
"I didn't ask you."
"Mom did."
"Because I knew you'd act like this."
The sentence was ridiculous enough that I almost lost track of the danger underneath it.
"Penny, where are you?"
"I told you, somewhere safe."
A man's voice sounded faintly behind her.
I couldn't make out the words.
Then there was laughter.
Not frightened laughter.
Casual laughter.
The kind people made around a table.
"Who is with you?"
"Nobody."
"I can hear someone."
"It's a television."
Rosa mouthed, No.
I had already reached the same conclusion.
There was music behind Penny again.
Then a sharp whistle and what sounded unmistakably like somebody calling for a server.
My sister lowered her voice.
"Maya, I need you to stop making this harder."
"Tell me where Lily is."
"She's fine."
"Let me speak to her."
"She's asleep."
It was eleven fifty-seven in the morning.
"Wake her up."
"No."
That single word changed something.
I stopped arguing.
"Okay."
Penny went quiet.
She knew me well enough to hear the difference.
"What does okay mean?"
"It means I'm not sending you money."
Her breathing sharpened.
"Maya."
"And I'm giving the sheriff your number."
"Don't."
"You just told me Lily is with you and won't let me speak to her."
"Because she's sleeping."
"Then let the deputy verify she's safe."
"No."
"Why?"
"Because I don't want police around my kid."
"Then give me the address."
"You're unbelievable."
Penny's voice rose suddenly.
"You sit there with your perfect husband and your perfect paycheck and your perfect little house and act like everybody else's life is some moral failure."
Rosa shifted Hazel higher against her shoulder.
I said nothing.
Penny kept going.
"You have no idea what it costs to raise two kids by yourself."
"I've paid a lot of those costs."
The silence afterward was ugly.
Penny spoke first.
"Wow."
I wished I could take the sentence back.
Not because it was false.
Because it sounded like something our mother would say, keeping receipts for every kindness.
"I didn't mean it like that."
"Yes, you did."
"Penny—"
"Go to hell."
She disconnected.
For several seconds, I listened to the empty line.
Rosa handed Hazel back to me.
"That was not good."
"No."
"But it was useful."
I looked at her.
"Useful how?"
"She lied three times in five minutes."
I glanced down at the incident number written on the feeding sheet.
Then my phone vibrated with a text from an unknown number.
It contained one photograph.
Penny was standing beside a swimming pool in oversized sunglasses, holding a bright orange drink.
Behind her were palm trees, white cabanas, and a strip of blue sky so vivid it looked artificial.
The timestamp in the screenshot showed the picture had been posted less than an hour earlier.
A second message arrived.
"Thought you should know where your emergency money is going."
I stared at the photograph until the details sharpened.
Penny was smiling.
Not nervously.
Not bravely.
She was smiling the way she always did when somebody else was paying.
At the bottom of the image, a location tag was still visible.
Miami Beach.
Rosa read it over my shoulder.
"Isn't your sister supposed to be hiding from dangerous people?"
"Apparently they're very dangerous about sunscreen."
The joke came out before I could stop it.
Rosa did not laugh.
Neither did I.
A third message appeared.
This one contained only five words.
May you like
"Ask her about the cabanas."
I looked at the unknown number.
