Chương 9
“And no lying for me.”
He held her gaze.
“That one I can promise.”
Donovan’s promise landed with more force than anything Arthur had shouted.
Fiona nodded once and looked down at the badge on the counter.
For several seconds, no one moved.
Then the party music changed to something with a heavy bass line, and somebody near the house cheered as if nothing beyond the trees had changed at all.
Fiona let out a breath that almost became a laugh.
“My engagement party is still happening.”
Donovan looked toward the gate.
“Technically.”
She wiped under both eyes.
“I look awful.”
“You look like you cried at your own engagement party.”
“That’s not better.”
“No.”
He reached into his pocket and handed her a folded tissue.
She stared at it.
“You carry tissues?”
“I work in an ER.”
“That explains almost nothing.”
“It explains enough.”
A tiny smile appeared and vanished.
Arthur watched them with an expression I couldn’t read.
Maybe relief.
Maybe resentment that Donovan could still make Fiona smile after refusing to rescue her.
Raymond opened the gate.
“I’m going back before somebody decides the cake needs ceremonial gunfire.”
Arthur muttered, “Nobody’s that stupid.”
Raymond glanced over his shoulder.
“You hosted an engagement party next to a private range.”
Arthur’s mouth tightened.
I nearly smiled.
Then Raymond looked at me.
“You coming?”
“In a minute.”
He nodded and left.
Donovan looked at Fiona.
“I’m going to tell people we had a family issue.”
She stiffened.
“Don’t say anything else.”
“I wasn’t planning to.”
“Not even Ray’s wife?”
“No.”
“What about your parents?”
“Not tonight.”
Her shoulders loosened.
Then she glanced toward me.
“Are you staying?”
The question surprised me.
“At the party?”
“Yes.”
“I don’t know.”
Arthur gave a dry laugh.
“Why wouldn’t you?”
I looked at him.
He folded his arms.
“You’ve already ruined the evening.”
Fiona closed her eyes.
“Dad.”
“What?”
“You don’t get to say that.”
He looked at her.
“She dragged this out in front of everybody.”
“I dragged her to the range.”
“You were upset.”
“I was showing off.”
“You were defending yourself.”
“From what?”
Arthur gestured toward me.
“Her judgment.”
Fiona stared at him.
“Do you hear yourself?”
“I hear myself fine.”
“No.”
Her voice softened.
“That’s kind of the whole problem.”
He turned away.
The back of his neck had gone red.
For years, Fiona had been the one person whose criticism he couldn’t dismiss as jealousy or incompetence.
Now she was looking at him with the same exhausted disbelief I had carried since adolescence.
It should have felt satisfying.
Instead, it made me sad.
Donovan stepped through the gate.
“I’ll be inside.”
Fiona nodded.
He hesitated.
Then he touched her shoulder lightly.
It was not an embrace.
She leaned into it anyway.
When he left, Arthur walked to the counter and picked up the badge.
Fiona’s eyes followed his hand.
“Leave it.”
He turned it over between his fingers.
“You earned most of this.”
“No.”
“You completed the training.”
“Not all of it.”
“One exercise.”
“The final qualification.”
“You’re splitting hairs.”
I said, “She’s not.”
Arthur looked at me.
“I wasn’t talking to you.”
Fiona held out her hand.
“Give it to me.”
He hesitated before placing the badge in her palm.
She closed her fingers around it.
“I don’t know what I’m supposed to do with this now.”
“Keep it until they tell you otherwise.”
“No.”
Arthur exhaled sharply.
“For God’s sake, stop acting like you committed murder.”
“No one said I did.”
“You’re going to let them crucify you over paperwork.”
Fiona’s hand tightened around the badge.
“You still don’t get it.”
“Apparently nobody gets anything except Joselyn.”
There it was again.
The instinct to turn accountability into favoritism.
I felt tired all at once.
Not angry.
Just tired.
“I’m going back to the house.”
Arthur scoffed.
“Run away.”
I stopped at the gate.
Fiona said, “Jo.”
I turned.
She looked at me, then at Arthur, then back at me.
“Wait.”
Arthur’s face hardened.
Fiona stepped toward me.
“I want you to take the badge.”
I stared at her hand.
“No.”
“Why?”
“Because it’s yours.”
“That’s the problem.”
“It’s evidence now.”
Her face changed.
I hated how clinical the word sounded.
“Right.”
“I don’t mean it like that.”
“You do.”
She looked at the metal in her palm.
“And you’re right.”
Arthur said, “Nobody’s taking anything.”
Fiona ignored him.
“Can you turn it in?”
“I can tell you who to contact.”
“Can’t you just do it?”
“No.”
She looked frustrated.
Then embarrassed by the frustration.
“I keep asking people to handle things for me.”
Neither of us spoke.
She nodded to herself.
“Okay.”
She slipped the badge into an inner pocket.
“I’ll do it.”
Arthur muttered something under his breath.
Fiona turned.
“What?”
“Nothing.”
“No, say it.”
He shook his head.
She waited.
Finally he said, “Your mother would hate this.”
The words hit harder than anything else that night.
Fiona went completely still.
I felt the same old rage rise so fast that my hands tingled.
“Don’t,” I said.
Arthur looked at me.
“I’m allowed to talk about my wife.”
“Not like that.”
“How?”
“Like she’s a weapon.”
His face tightened.
“You don’t get to tell me what she would think.”
“Neither do you.”
“I knew her thirty-eight years.”
“And somehow you still managed not to listen to her.”
He stepped toward me.
Fiona moved between us again.
This time she faced him.
“Mom would’ve been mad at me.”
Arthur blinked.
Fiona swallowed.
“She would’ve been disappointed.”
“No.”
“Yes.”
“No, she would’ve understood.”
“She understood people without pretending they were right.”
Her voice shook.
“She did that with me all the time.”
Arthur looked away.
Fiona continued.
“She would’ve told me to take the badge off before anyone found out.”
He said nothing.
“She would’ve told you to stop fixing things I broke.”
His jaw clenched.
“And she would’ve told Joselyn to stop acting like she doesn’t get hurt.”
May you like
I stared at her.
Fiona gave me a tired look.
