Page 60 of All Your Pucking Secrets

“What have you been doing today?” she asks, the sound of rushing water in the background, as if she’s running a tap. Washing the dishes, maybe? Or she could be at work.

“Just finding references for an essay,” I tell her. “Otherwise, things have been quiet.”

“I’m glad to hear you’re taking some down time.”

I hesitate for a beat too long, uncertain of how to broach a subject that will upset her.

“What is it?” she asks, noticing immediately.

I jump into the deep end. “Mom, after I was…you know…where did the money for our attorney come from?”

There’s an intake of breath. “Why do you ask?”

“Please.” I can’t bear to explain everything right now. “I need to know.”

“Actually, the attorney approached me,” she says. “He said that an anonymous benefactor believed in your case and had arranged to pay his fees so he could ensure everything was being done properly.”

The bottom dropped out of my stomach.

An anonymous benefactor.

Could it have been one of the Kinseys?

Could it have been Tyler?

But where would he have gotten his hands on the money? His father was generous with them but liked to know where every cent was going.

“Do you have any idea who?” I ask, needing to know the truth even as I fear the answer.

“What’s this about?” Mom sounds disturbed.

“Please.”

“Okay, honey. No, I don’t know. I never did. To be honest, I never questioned it much. I was just so grateful.”

I bite the inside of my cheek. “So, there were no clues?”

I’m not sure I can handle not knowing.

She pauses for long enough that I realize she’s thought of something.

“What?” I prompt.

“The attorney passed along a message. It was strange, and that’s why I remember. He said that the benefactor wanted to get justice for a shooting star.”

I drop the phone, the room spinning around me.

It’s true. It must be.

Somehow, Tyler paid for my attorney.

He didn’t totally abandon me. And if I was wrong about that, then what else might I be wrong about?

16

TYLER

My phone rings as I add a scoop of protein powder to the blender, screw the lid on, and start it up. It’s the ringtone I assigned to Echo. The ingredients whizz together, forming a thick brownish liquid. I glance at the phone, but my smoothie will only take a couple more seconds, so I leave it.

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