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?”
24
I stagger back a step. Stupid, really. Even if I ran, there’s nowhere to go.
I press one hand to my chest, feel my heart slam against my palm. “Jeez, Hart, you always lurk outside the girls’ bathroom?”
“Don’t play dumb. You heard me.” He pushes off the wall, one hand extended. “Give it to me.”
I swallow. I can’t think of how to play this. I can’t think of anything past the humming in my head. My brain feels filled with ginger ale.
“Now.”
I slide the phone from under my shirt and pass it to him. Hart punches two buttons and then looks at me. “That’s your sister’s number, isn’t it?”
I don’t bother answering. If he wants to know, he can look it up. The silence is starting to help me now. I’m breathing through my panic. Hart knows I have a cell and he knows I’ve been making calls. That’s it.
I won’t give him anything more. I’m done giving.
His eyes flick up and down me. “You know what this means, right?”
“No TV for a month?”
Hart makes a disgusted noise low in his throat and grabs my arm, hauls me down the hallway. We’re almost to the elevator when the doors open.
Milo steps off. He stops, stares.
“Not now,” Hart says and Milo retreats into the elevator without a word. Without ever meeting my eyes. The force of it—of what it means—makes me stumble. Is this how it’s going to end?
Hart keeps going, dragging me with him. I’m glad for it actually. My legs are numb through. He’s heading for Norcut’s office and it’s almost a relief. Let’s do this. Why not?
This time, Hart doesn’t bother knocking.
“Found her.” Hart pushes me forward and shuts the door. The cell arches above my head as he tosses it to Norcut. She catches it with one hand and there’s a long, long moment of silence as she examines the cell, scrolls through all the functions.
Norcut’s eyes lift to mine. “Sit.”
I do and we consider each other for several seconds. “So where does this leave us now?” she asks at last.
I lift one shoulder. “You lied to me. To them. You said they didn’t want to talk to me and they did. Why would you do that?”
“Because you needed some space.”
“No, you could have just said that and you didn’t. You said they didn’t want to talk to me. You told Bren I didn’t want to talk to them. You made me think I had no one. Why would you do that?”