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to be something else I can do.

There is, a voice whispers in the back of my head. Prove it was someone else.

“Hey, Mom…” I glance over my shoulder casually. The guard behind me looks bored as hell, and Lincoln’s waiting outside, so I don’t know who I thought might be eavesdropping. Turning back to face the glass, I ask the question that’s been eating at me for days. “Did Mr. Black ever make a pass at you?”

Her eyebrows shoot up. As far as she’s concerned, this is an abrupt subject change out of left field—which means she has no suspicion that Samuel Black set her up. And why would she? He’s gone out of his way to make it seem like he’s helping her, like he’s on her side.

“No!” She scoffs, but almost as soon as the word is out of her mouth, she purses her lips like she’s reconsidering her answer. “Well, he’s always been a little extra friendly. Happy to have company. But that’s all. I think he’s just lonely. Audrey isn’t the most…” She waves her hand as she tries to think of the word.

Human?

Fully conscious?

She gives up on trying to find the perfect word to describe Linc’s mother and shakes her head.

“He… I think he likes me. He likes to talk with me, and yeah, I’m pretty sure I caught him checking me out once. But he’s never made a move on me or anything. I wouldn’t have stayed if he had.”

I believe that. My mom isn’t the type to be the other woman or to break up a marriage, even if it’s on the rocks already.

What I’m not so sure of, however, is her assessment of Mr. Black’s character. And her claim that he only checked her out once. Maybe she only noticed once, but that’s because Mom is utterly oblivious to those kinds of things most of the time.

Still, it’s a relief to know he wasn’t going after her hard. That he didn’t try to force her or coerce her or anything.

“When you guys talked, did he ever mention… anyone else? Anyone who wasn’t Audrey?”

We’re veering into very weird territory, and judging from the lift of Mom’s eyebrows, she knows it. I’m wondering if Samuel Black ever gave her any hint of his relationship with Iris, but I don’t want to come right out and say the dead girl’s name.

“Low…” Mom’s voice drops as she leans closer to the glass divide, worry pinching her brows together. “Did he ever make a pass at you?”

“No!” My denial is about as fervent as hers was.

Thank God, no.

In fact, up until last week, I kind of liked the guy. He could be a little too friendly, and I knew Linc had issues with him because of the philandering example he set. But I’d always felt like, those interpersonal issues aside, he was a basically decent human being.

Now?

I don’t fucking know anymore.

Mom’s regarding me suspiciously, her hand clutching the phone by her ear. And more to help her sleep at night than to defend Mr. Black’s integrity, I say, “Really, Mom. No. He never hit on me or anything. I just overheard him and Audrey having a fight the other day and was being nosy, that’s all.”

She relaxes a little, blowing out a breath. “Okay. God, I’d never forgive myself if I brought you into a house where a man…” She shakes her head, not even finishing the thought. Then she looks up at me, a hint of a spark lighting in her eyes. “Are you and Lincoln dating?”

“What?”

Now I’m the one caught flat-footed.

I normally don’t keep anything from my mom, but the way Linc and I started was so messed up, and there were so many parts of the picture I couldn’t fill in for her, that I never told her about it at all. And I definitely haven’t told her about what happened in the pool house last night.

“Samuel mentioned something about it.” She smiles. “I think it’s great. He’s cute. And I’m glad you have a shoulder to lean on right now.”

Then she reaches out with the phone and taps it against the glass, scowling. When she puts it back to her ear, she adds, “But these are the kinds of things a daughter should tell her mother. I know it’s weird talking like this”—she gestures around us, encompassing the correctional facility visiting area—“but we need to get used to it.”

There are words implicit in her statement that she doesn’t speak aloud.

We need to get used to it… because it might be this way for a long, long time.

Linc’s fingers thread through mine on the way back to the house, our joined hands resting on my lap. Music blares through the speakers, and little flurries of snow drift through the air outside the windshield. The cloudy sky is pure white, and although it’s still bright out, everything seems drab in this harsh, colorless light.

It all seems to match my mood too perfectly. I miss the buttery sunshine of Arizona.

When we reach the Black mansion and head in through the side door from the motor court, delicious smells are floating out from the kitchen. Gwen usually does a pretty elaborate meal on Sundays, and I think it’s the only night of the week the family always eats together. I never paid all that much attention to it because I was usually up in Mom’s apartment, sharing meals with her.

Mr. Black catches us before we reach the stairs, his usual beaming smile in place. It makes my skin crawl in a way it never used to.

“Ah! Just the two people I was looking for.” He turns to me, his smile melting into a look of sympathy and concern. “How is your mother?”

“She’s fine.”

I don’t mention the fact that she had to let her private lawyer go. I’m not telling him shit about my mom, not giving him anything else he can use against her.

His eyelids flicker slightly, like he can tell from my voice that

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