Part 2: The Scream on the Phone
“What did you do?”
That was all I could make out at first.
Jessica’s voice was breaking apart on the other end. There was wind behind her. Cars. A man yelling somewhere far off, maybe Ethan, maybe someone else.
“Jessica?”
“What did you do, Emily?”
I stood in the hallway outside Lily’s bedroom with one hand on the wall because my knees did that stupid weak thing people write about and I used to think they were being dramatic.
“Where are you?”
“Don’t act dumb,” she snapped. “Don’t you dare act dumb. They froze it. Everything. The account. The card. The car. Ethan’s gone and there are cops here and they said there’s a tracker and recordings and, God, Emily, what the hell did you do?”
My mouth went dry.
Recordings?
Tracker?
From Lily’s bedroom, I heard the soft click of plastic.
She was sitting cross-legged on her rug in pajamas with yellow ducks on them, building some ugly little robot from a kit my dad had mailed her for Christmas. The dog, Peanut, was asleep against her foot.
Lily looked up at me.
Not surprised.
Not even curious.
She set down the screwdriver and mouthed, “Is it Aunt Jessica?”
I nodded.
Jessica was still shouting.
“Put Lily on the phone.”
“No.”
“Put her on the phone right now.”
“No, Jessica.”
“That little sneak ruined my life.”
Something hot went through me.
Not fear.
Not grief.
Something worse.
“Your life?” I said.
Lily blinked at me because I don’t raise my voice. I am a very boring yeller. My anger usually comes out as cleaning the baseboards at midnight.
But I heard myself then, sharp and ugly.
“You stole from your sister and a child.”
“You don’t understand what happened.”
“Then explain it.”
May you like
There was a small pause.
Then Jessica said, “Ethan has the money.”
