Page 73 of Wicked Games

I blink. “Huh?”

“When it was bought out.” Riley leans forward. “I was looking into it the other night. Was she the one who helped negotiate the Ashers’ jobs?”

I don’t even remember the company selling. “I don’t really know what happened with that. When did it happen?”

She clears her throat, sitting up straighter. “I’ve done my research. Prepare to be blown away. Okay, so, Benjamin Asher was a big insurance and real estate mogul. He basically had a foothold in most of Rose Hill. His insurance company was bought out by Prize Industries, but they kept him on as a vice president of something or other after the merge. Some articles made it sound like a sympathy job. As if they didn’t really want him around, and he didn’t do shit, but they couldn’t get rid of him.”

“So Caleb’s dad sold the company and negotiated to keep a well-paying job, on top of a payout?” I ask.

“You didn’t know about that? I think it happened when you were still around.”

“I don’t remember my parents talking about it,” I say faintly. I’m sure they must’ve discussed it. The Ashers would’ve rocketed from wealthy into billionaire status, right? A personal chef—ha, they could’ve hired four personal chefs.

“I don’t know what to believe about the past or the present. It’s all just so confusing.” I rub my temples. “I keep having these dreams, and Caleb kind of inferred that one was actually a memory…”

My head hurts. Literally. The pulse of pain is right behind my eyes. All I want to do is climb into bed and pretend none of this is happening.

“What about your dad?” Riley asks.

I jerk back. “What about him?”

“I mean, your mom left, right? She was a drug addict. It’s what people at school say.”

“That’s true,” I admit.

“And your dad’s in prison.”

“What’s your point?”

She holds up her hands in surrender, and I realize… I’m snapping at her.

“I’m sorry. It’s a sensitive subject.” I frown. “I know you’re not asking to be cruel.”

“What did he go for?” she asks. “There’s a chance he didn’t want to leave you.”

I think back. I wasn’t allowed to go to his trial back then, and I only remember snippets of what I picked up from my foster family watching the news. Even then, they’d turn it off if they realized I was there.

“He went to prison for something to do with drugs. My case worker said he was dealing and probably got my mom addicted.”

Riley doesn’t reply, but there’s pity smeared across her face.

“Don’t, please.”

“It isn’t?—”

My glare stops her short.

She hangs her head. “I’m sorry. It’s a shitty situation, and I don’t know how you deal with it all without being a mess. I admire you for it, but as your best friend, I ache for you.”

I soften. That is incredibly sweet of her.

I take her hand. “I’m sorry, too. I’m just used to pity… not sympathy. Or even worse, empathy.” I smile.

She laughs. “Never pity.”

“Thank you.”

“Okay, so, what are these books about?”