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.”
23
“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.”