Trust Me (12 page)

“Are you there?” Lily asks. “Wick? Mom feels really bad about what happened. Please don't shut us out anymore.”

Shut them out? My brain is tingly, fuzzy, and I sound so very far away when I answer, “Lil, I haven't refused your calls. I was told I wasn't allowed to call.”

She hiccups. “Mom would never do that!”

I take a deep breath and then another. Either Bren's lying about the phone situation . . . or Norcut is.

“Mom
wants
to talk to you, Wick.” Again, the mouthpiece is tucked close. Her breathing's ragged and shallow as mine now. “I miss you. I miss you so much. It's not the same without you. We're not the same family. Please come home.”

Now I
am
crying.

“I'm scared, Wick.”

I grip the phone tighter. “Why?”

“There are men watching the house. I've seen them. Mom—Bren won't admit it, but I know she sees them too.”

I rub one fist against my breastbone, but the knot in my chest refuses to loosen. “She probably thinks it would scare you worse to know the truth. The house is being watched for your protection. Michael escaped and those men are there to make sure he doesn't bother you.”

“Why would he?” Lily's words skew up an octave. “Why would he even stay around here? Isn't he worried about being caught again?”

“I don't know.” I waver. My gut's telling me not to say anything further, but I kept Lily in the dark for so long. Maybe it's time I trust her? She's not the girl she used to be. Honestly, neither am I.

I pinch the skin between my eyes and force the words. “They think . . . they think there's something around here he wants.” I pause, listening to her breathing. It hitched once, but she's still there.

“You need to come home, Wick. We need to fix this. Promise?”

“I promise.” It escapes before I realize I even said it, before I realize I even
thought
it. That's the thing with Lily and me, she asks and I answer. Always. And for several seconds, all I can think about is how Hart and Norcut took this away from us. If they lied about the phone stuff, it's very possible they lied about the security too, and in my head, Alex's smile slithers wider and wider.

Explain to me, Alex said, how Hart and Norcut are protecting your family if they have more cameras on the inside of the house than the outside. Something's going on. I just don't know what.

I tuck one arm around my middle and stare at the tile under my shoes. “Look, Lily. I don't have much time. I just need to ask you a couple questions, okay?”

“Okay.”

“Have you noticed any cameras inside the house?”

“Cameras? No. Are we being watched inside too?”

“That's what I was told. Has Bren mentioned anything? You know how she gets. Is she being weird?”

“Definitely, especially since . . . I think I know when the cameras were installed.” Lily's tone slows and flattens. “We had exterminators. You know the ones that come every month?”

“Yeah.” Bren can't stand bugs. She gets the house sprayed every month.

“Well,” Lily continues. “I came home early and they were still working. I surprised one of them. He was in your room. I think he was looking for something.”

There's a humming in my ears now. A droning. I grope for the wall with one hand, feeling like the floor just tilted. “Did you . . . you didn't happen to check . . .”

Lily makes a huffing noise. “I moved your stuff the night you left. Don't worry.”

Easy for her to say. I'm sweating through my clothes now. I was hauled off so quickly I didn't have time to stash
my jump drives. They store all my work: viruses, accounts, client information. I kept them pinned behind my bed's headboard. Not a genius hiding spot, but I hadn't exactly anticipated forced rehab.

“And wherever you put my thumb drives,” I say slowly, “they're safe, right?”

“Of course they're safe. You're not the only one who can do this.”

I think she means for it to be funny, but it's not. Lily has always wanted a normal life, a good life, one that doesn't involve sneaking around and breaking the law and hiding. It's what I want for her too. I don't want my sister to know the things I do. Then again, maybe she always has.

Maybe she's just been better at hiding them.

“Thanks for looking out for me,” I say.

“Always.” And Lily seems so happy to say it, happier still that I noticed how she looks out for me. On her end, there's another murmur of voices and we both go quiet as they pass.

Why would anyone want my drives? I mean, there's enough stuff—viruses, client information, usernames—on them to build a bridge into me, but none of it is as good as what Hart has on me.

The realization makes my breath go shallow. If those are Hart's people, there's no way they're looking for my thumb drives. Looking Glass already has everything—or at least enough to warrant a police investigation.

So what else is there?

Chills spread across my arms and I stand. No, that's not the right question. It isn't about what I have. The real question is what else do they
think
I have? The money? They know Michael took it. Do they think I helped?

“So,” Lily says as soon as it's quiet on her end. “Do you think your stuff is what Dad's looking for?”

“No ide—” I stop. My sister's tone. It's so . . . hopeful. “What do
you
think he was looking for?”

There's nothing but Lily's breathing now. Too light. Too fast.

I grip the phone tighter. “Lil?”

“I think they were looking for some money.”

“Why?”

“Because I took it.”

“I don't . . .” I switch the phone to my other ear, switch it back. “How did you . . . ?”

“Know?”

I can barely hear Lily now. She's whispering softer than I am, probably close to tears, and I should try for comforting, but I'm barely holding down a scream.

“Tell me everything.” I grit my teeth as she pauses. I grit until my jaw hurts. “Lily!”

“Dad used to talk about it in front of me—he and Joe would talk about it. Dad was part of some partnership and it was doing really well and Joe was helping him, working for him or whatever.”

I shake my head. “I never heard anything about that. They never said anything to me.”

Lily sniffles, but her voice goes flat and even. “Of
course not. They were worried about you. They were afraid of
you
. Not me. I'm the stupid one, remember? It was safe to say anything in front of me.”

“You're not stupid.”

“But I wasn't useful either.”

I hesitate. “Why didn't you ever tell me?”

“What was I supposed to say?” Lily sniffles. “Our dad might have access to eleven million dollars and we can't keep the power on?”

My stomach free-falls. “Eleven million? That's what you took?”

“Yes.” My sister stops, waiting for my next question, and honestly, I don't have one. I don't have anything. I can't stop staring at the bathroom door.

“Dad didn't discuss the money until after she died,” Lily continues. “I mean, if I had known, I would've told . . .
her
.”

Her. Our other mother. The one who jumped. The one who was murdered. If it were another time and another place, I'd ask Lily why she can't say
Mom
. Right now though? I think I might get it. Sometimes you can't name your pain, but it lives with you anyway.

“Trust me,” Lily continues. “If I had known then, I would've happily raided whatever stash he had to buy groceries or keep the lights on.”

“I believe you. I just . . .” I scrub one hand over my numb face. “Why now?”

“We needed the money. Mom needed the money. And
it was there. I didn't think anyone even knew about it. I mean, Dad was in jail and Joe was dead and then you were gone . . .”

“I still don't understand why you wouldn't have said something
before
. All that time, all that work I did trying to raise money in case we had to run—”

“I didn't believe it would work!” Lily huffs into the phone as a bell rings. Homeroom must be close to starting. “After Detective Carson arrested Dad, everything was supposed to be gone. Detective Carson
said
everything was gone, and what did it matter? We had a new life. We had money. We had Mom. We didn't need any of our dad's stuff. I didn't even really believe him.”

Because she didn't need to. I force myself to take a deep breath. “How bad is Bren—Mom?”

“I don't know. She cries a lot. Not when I'm around, but I can tell. I notice.”

I wrap one arm around my middle and still feel like I'm crumbling in half. “So you took care of it.”

“Yeah.”

“How? Tell me how you got the money.”

“I accessed the account he talked about and then just . . . transferred the balance.”

Nausea sweeps through me. “Lil, where'd you transfer the money to?”

“Your account. The offshore one.”

The one I told my sister about in case something ever happened to me. The one I created to safeguard the money
I earned from my hacking. The one I guarded in case we ever needed to run.

My head goes helium light and fuzzy. This is why Michael's chasing me. My sister accidentally made it look like I stole from him.

“Lil, you have to transfer the money back. All of it.”

“I can't.” My sister sniffles again, louder this time. “I mean, I can transfer almost all of it, but I already paid some of our bills. The mortgage statement was on the table so I used Mom's log-in and paid everything through the end of the year.”

“How are you going to explain that? She's going to notice someone paid the mortgage.”

“I don't
know
! What was I supposed to do, Wick? You're not here and she won't talk to me and everything is ruined! I don't know what to do and I don't know how to help!”

“It isn't your job to help. Bren has to take care of this.”

“And she can't so I did.”

“Lily—”

“You took care of me.”

I pause. “It's not the same.”

“No, it's not.” Lily's voice ratchets into something smaller again, more like my little sister and less like the girl from seconds before. “But it feels kinda like it. I don't know who I'm supposed to be anymore, Wick. When we were with dad, I knew what my role was.”

I wet my lips, swallow. “What's that?”

“Leverage. He kept me around to keep you in line.”

“That's not true.”

“Yes, it is. I don't know which was worse: getting hit to keep you going or watching you watch me get hit to keep you going.”

I open my mouth and can't say a word. All this time, all this worry, everything I've done to
protect
her and it didn't matter. I couldn't erase what she saw. I can't erase what we went through.

“Wick, you did what you had to do so we could survive and that's what I'm doing too.”

My eyes sting with tears and I dash my hand against them. She learned that from me. It's another relic from our past. How many times have I thought that? How many times have I behaved that way? I wanted to spare her, and instead, I taught her how to be just like me. “I'm sorry, Lily. I'm so sorry.”

She hiccups and I wince. Crying. My sister's crying now and I'm miles away. I can't save her. I never could.

“Wick, I looked at other stuff too—just like you used to. I searched Looking Glass's name and I get why our therapist is down as a company owner, but I don't understand why Alan Bay is.”

I go still. “What?”

“When I searched the company information, the state site said Allison Norcut and Alan Bay are owners and Alan Bay is
Judge
Bay, right? The one that handled our cases?”

I swallow. “Right.”

Another bell on Lily's end and she groans. “Crap. I have
to go. That's the late bell. I don't want to get in trouble.”

“No . . . of course not.”

“I won't tell Bren you called. It'll be our secret. I love you. All this stuff muddies everything, but they can't take that.”

I sink onto the toilet seat again. “No.”

Lily disconnects, and for several long seconds, I just hang my head in my hands. Michael worked with Looking Glass, with Norcut. All those scams, all those jobs we did . . . was I always working for her? And what about Judge Bay? Why was he involved in Looking Glass? I can't figure out the angle. Bay dealt with politics and criminals. I don't understand how he could've been useful.

Norcut made such a pretty speech about taking down Michael. Was it just because he stole from her? Or is it because she's eliminating everyone attached to the company? Because Bay was an owner and now he's gone, and Michael was an employee and now she wants him gone.

I open the stall door and turn off both faucets, brace my sweaty palms on the counter. My sister stole from Looking Glass. How long until they discover the money went to my account?

What if they already know?

Lily and I talked for too long. I'm sure my absence has been noted. Maybe someone even heard the running water. I need excuses, good ones. I need to fix this and I have no idea how, but I do know where I stand with Bren and Lily.
Looking Glass wants to be my only light in the world and it's not.

I tuck the phone into the waistband of my jeans, flip my T-shirt over it, and examine myself in the mirror. Not bad. You can't see it and—unless someone goes in for a hug—it's not like anyone will feel it.

Milo might.

I grimace, shake myself. Alex owes me an “I told you so” for the cameras. She'll think it changes things.

Has it?

Hidden cameras or not, Hart and Norcut are still protecting my family, right? I mean, I saw the van.

Or did I just see what they wanted me to see?

The best lies are the ones you want to believe. Is that what happened with Milo too? He just had to whisper the things I always wanted and I fell for it? Maybe he was just doing what his mommy told him to do.

The idea hits me low, almost taking me to my knees as something very close to tears crowds my eyes.

Stop it. Get moving. Get to work and pretend nothing happened.

I can hide in the open. I've been doing it for years. I can do it a little longer. And somehow, the reminder really helps. I can do this. I can.

Or, I think I can until I open the bathroom door.

Hart's waiting for me, and this time, there is no smile. “Hello, Wick. Been making some phone calls?”