Louise
I got back to the apartment by mid-afternoon. I walked into the kitchen, expecting to find stacks of dishes waiting to be loaded into the washer. But every surface was spotless.
“Good, huh?” Kayley said from behind me. She stifled a yawn. “Stacey helped.”
I spun around. And tried not to let my smile falter as I saw how thin she was getting.
I’d seen her only the previous morning but now, under the harsh kitchen lights, her cheeks looked hollow.
And she looked so small, in her clothes, like she’d lost even more weight. Had she looked that ill yesterday?
Or had I just been so focused on the plan that I hadn’t noticed?
I grabbed her and pulled her into my chest, wrapping my arms around her and wanting to keep them there forever. Kayley gave an exaggerated “Ulp!” and then, after a few seconds, started to wriggle. “Must...escape...crushing...ribs…”
I let her go, a little relieved. The old Kayley was still in there. “Thank you for cleaning up,” I told her. “But no more. That’s my job.”
Kayley rolled her eyes. “I’m fourteen,” she reminded me. “I can take care of myself.”
But you shouldn’t have to. Especially not when she was ill.
“Anyway, how’d it go last night?”
That caught me off guard. “Last night?” She’d been dozing in her room when I’d dressed for the jazz club...hadn’t she?
“I heard you and Stacey talking. And then I got the details out of her when you were gone.” She grinned. “You slept over at his place last night?”
“No!” I swallowed. “It’s not like that!”
“Louise, it’s okay. I’m glad you’re seeing someone.” She grinned. “Is he hot? When can I meet him?”
“Never!” My head was spinning. I’d only just wrapped my head around being with Sean. He was still caught up in crime—that was his life. Maybe I could learn to accept that, but I couldn’t have a guy like that around Kayley. “Look...things are complicated right now.”
She pouted. “Why are you being so mysterious? Why can’t you just tell me what’s going on?”
I sighed. “Come on,” I said. “Let’s go thank Stacey for hanging out here all day. Then we can do something fun together.”
So we did. I took her out to a fancy ice cream place and we talked about movies and the vacation we’d take when this was all over and who we’d most like to be shipwrecked with. But she left her ice cream half eaten, her appetite worryingly poor.
That night, after I’d tucked her in, I was just about to leave her when she grabbed my wrist. “Can you stay with me?” she asked. “Just for tonight?” Her voice had suddenly lost that teenage, all-knowing, tone.
She hadn’t asked for that for years. I sat down on the edge of the bed, wracked with guilt. I’ve been away too much. “Of course,” I said, my voice cracking. And I stretched out next to her.
I hated lying to her. We’d always been so close and it felt as if all the secrets had driven a wedge between us. Just hang on, I thought as I watched her sleep. Another month. That’s all I need. Then this whole thing would be over and I could end this double life.
I didn’t know that I was about to run out of time.