August 5, Wednesday
DEPUTY WELLS found me in the common area after dinner, where I'd been reading a paperback from the lending library.
"Ms. Good. Your call's set up, if you're ready."
I set the book down. "Yes. Thank you."
He led me down a corridor I hadn't been in before, our footsteps muffled by carpet, to a small room with a round table, two chairs, and a laptop already glowing with a waiting screen. A pitcher of water sweated quietly on a coaster.
"I'll be right outside," he said, gesturing to the hallway. "Door stays cracked, per protocol. I'm not listening in, but I am technically supervising, so." He shrugged, almost apologetic. "Just wanted you to know."
"Understood." I appreciated the honesty.
I sat, smoothed my blouse—er, Elaine's blouse, and clicked to connect the call. A window bloomed onto the screen—Lily's face too close to the camera, Josh's a distant, poorly lit blob somewhere behind her.
"Hi, kids." I smiled, determined to keep things upbeat.
"Mom." Lily's greeting came out flat, more announcement than warmth. "This school year is already the worst. Ms. Kowalski gave us, like, forty pages of reading on day two. Forty pages."
"That does sound like a lot. How's your schedule otherwise?"
"Terrible. I got stuck with lunch period A, which is basically for freshmen."
Josh's voice crackled in from his corner of the screen. "My science teacher already assigned a group project. On the first week. Who does that?"
"Sounds challenging," I said, "but I'm sure you can handle it. "How's Dad managing?"
A pause. A meaningful glance passed between them.
"He forgot to sign my permission slip," Lily said.
"There's, like, nothing to eat," Josh added. "Unless you count the protein bars Dad buys that taste like drywall."
"Have either of you walked Tucker today?"
Another pause, longer this time.
"Josh's turn," Lily said.
"It's literally Lily's day," Josh shot back.
I closed my eyes for a half second, pinching the bridge of my nose. "Please. Just—one of you. Tonight."
"Mom, seriously." Lily leaned so close the camera distorted her face. "You need to come home. This is insane. You can't actually do this for six months."
"Yeah," Josh chimed in. "Just tell them you changed your mind."
"That's not how it works, sweetheart. I already explained—"
"It's like you don't want to be here," Lily said, voice climbing.
"That's not true, and it's not fair," I said gently. "I love you both, but this isn't a decision I can unmake. Work with your dad. And don't forget your Aunt Elaine is on standby."
Silence answered me, thick with the particular sullenness only teenagers can manufacture on command.
"I'll call you again Sunday," I said. "And your dad and I will be talking every Saturday about your schedules. I love you. Please walk the dog."
Josh grunted something that might have been goodbye. Lily leaned toward the camera one final time, stuck out her tongue with theatrical disdain, and the screen went black.
I sat there a moment, staring at my own reflection in the laptop screen, throat tight and stinging.
When I stepped into the hallway, Deputy Wells was exactly where he'd said he'd be, posture easy, gaze fixed politely on some middle distance that wasn't me. If he'd heard any of it, he gave no indication.
We walked back toward my room in a silence I couldn't quite hold together. Somewhere around the elevator, my eyes betrayed me, and I swiped quickly at my cheek, hoping the motion looked like I was pushing back a stray piece of hair.
At my door, he paused, reached into his breast pocket, and produced a folded white handkerchief—soft cotton, pressed at the corners, smelling faintly of cedar when he pressed it into my palm.
Then he offered a small, careful smile, touched the brim of his hat, and turned down the hallway without a word.