Page 72 of Blue Moon

“Where do you think he’s sending them?”

“You should come home. After your car got stolen, Amethyst installed cameras.”

Oh, sure, she installed them. As if she climbed the ladder herself. More like she paid someone else to do it with what was left of my money.

“My car wasn’t stolen. I just picked it up.”

“You… I don’t understand.”

“I told you I’m learning to drive.”

“Why didn’t you call first? Amethyst reported it to the police.”

“Because if I’d told Mom, she would have tried to stop me, and if I’d told you, you would have told her, wouldn’t you?”

Jubilee fiddled with her phone. She wouldn’t look me in the eye. “She’s worried about you. We both are.”

“I just said I’m fine.”

“But you’re not. Amethyst said you’re trying to throw us out of the house. She got a letter from a lawyer.”

“Because it was meant to be my house. I chose it, and I paid for it, but somehow it ended up in her name.”

My cousin’s brows knitted, and why was I surprised? Mom dished out information on a need-to-know basis, and she clearly didn’t think Jubilee needed to know that she’d stolen a whole-ass property.

“Oh, she didn’t tell you that part?”

As best my lawyer could work out, I’d owned the house for a couple of months when I was eighteen, and then Mom had filed a transfer of title form at the county recorder’s office, switching it to her name. The form was notarised, and I’d signed it. But I’d signed so many documents in those days, and I could barely freaking read. The legal stuff meant nothing to me. I’d trusted Mom when she told me what each form was for.

All I ever wanted to do was sing.

“I thought she bought the house.”

“Of course you did; she lies all the time.”

“But she said?—”

“Mom has a way of crushing your mind. The time in San Gallicano gave me the space to break out of her hold, and honestly, I don’t understand why you went back.”

“What was I supposed to do? You fired me, and I didn’t have anywhere else to live.”

“What about savings? I was paying you, like, a hundred thousand a year.”

She shrugged.

“You spent it all? What the heck on?”

Lululemon wasn’t that expensive, was it?

“Private yoga lessons with Guru Balvani, food, a new car.” She picked at her napkin. “I lent some to Benji.”

“Benji? The loser from high school? The one with the pocket protector?”

“He’s not a loser.”

“Then why did you have to lend him money?”

“He started a business.”

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