Page 30 of Morsel

“But if you aren’t going to call the cops, then it doesn’t matter,” she says.

I stare at Dolly.

“For someone so pretty, you really are dumb.”

“What?”

“Do you really think your brother and Hank won’t attack you?”

“I don’t think they’ll attack me,” she says, but her eyes betray her thoughts.

“You are so fucking gorgeous,” I say. “Now, let’s talk.”

“About?”

“You. Tell me everything.”

I take my phone, and I send a message to my assistant. I ask her to drop off an assortment of clothes in various sizes, and she assures me that she will. I Venmo her a bonus for the trouble. She’ll use my credit card for the purchases.

“What do you want to know?” Dolly asks.

“For starters, how old are you?”

“Twenty-eight.”

“Where did you grow up?”

“California.”

“How’d you end up in the Midwest?” I ask.

“My dad took a job here.”

“What job?”

“I don’t know. He died shortly after we got here. Car wreck. I don’t even know if he ever actually started the job.”

“That must have been tough,” I said. She’d had to be alone for so damn long. I looked at Dolly, and I watched as her shoulders slumped forward just a little. Quickly, she pulled them back.

“It was hard, but we got through it.”

“You and your mom?”

“I had a little brother, but he was in the car with my dad.”

“Dolly.”

“It’s okay.”

But I’m on my feet and tugging her out of the chair almost instantly. I wrap my arms around her, and I squeeze.

“It’s not okay,” I say.

“It was a long time ago.”

“That doesn’t make it not hurt,” I whisper.

“I know. It’s just…I try not to think about them.”

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