Page 91 of Don't You Pucking Dare

I close the envelope and ask, "Did you invite her here?" The words barely make it past my lips.

His expression doesn't change.

"Tell me the truth, Mr. Rothschild. Did you?"

"I did not, Miss Kemper." Something in his eyes tells me he understands exactly what I'm asking.

"Leave her out there then." I force steel into my voice. "Let me sign this paperwork and get this over with. How long will it take?"

"Just a few minutes." He starts pulling out documents, both of us pretending we don't hear my mother's heels clicking past the door for the third time.

After five signatures, I ask, "Is there another exit in the back like an employee exit?"

"Are you asking––"

I stop him, heart racing. "I would rather ask this of you instead of asking security to escort her out." I glare at him, hoping he knows what I mean.

He nods. "Sure thing, Miss Kemper. Your father was… quite the force. I’m sorry for your loss."

"Thanks," I mutter, not really feeling a loss. I glance over my shoulder to make sure she’s still out there, and she is. She’s still pacing. My heart’s racing again as he points at another place to sign.

"Okay, just one more signature. You will have a standing account with us. Your money will be accessible within the next few hours."

I request an Uber as I nod. He slides over a card.

"Activate it right now before you leave," he says, glancing at my impatient mother. "Call the number and set up the pin."

I do as he says, and it’s done in less than a minute.

He nods over his shoulder, and I notice the employee door behind him.

"Can you handle my mom?" I pause at the exit door, hand on the cold metal push bar.

"Of course." Rothschild adjusts his tie. "I'll tell her you had to take another exit for security purposes. Standard procedure for new accounts of this size." Then he pauses like he wants to say something but doesn’t.

"What is it?" I ask. "Just say it."

He whispers, "Off the record, Rich always knew she would be after his money."

My face twists as I glare at him. Is he saying what I think he’s saying?

"I’m sorry for your loss. Here’s my business card if you need anything, okay?"

I nod.

"You’re one of the good ones."

I ignore that, pushing through the door into the morning air. The Uber's already waiting, exactly where the app showed it would be. Behind me, I hear Rothschild's shoes clicking back down the hallway, returning to deal with my mother. He has no idea what he’s talking about. I’m not as good as he thinks I am, but I guess I’m not as off the rocker like my mother.

The Uber’s interior smells like pine air freshener. I sink into the back seat, clutching my purse with the letter inside. As we pull away, I catch a glimpse of my mother through the bank's front windows. She's standing at the reception desk, that fake smile cracking at the edges.

"Back to campus?" The driver glances in his rearview mirror.

I nod, already pulling out my phone. I need to text Brody. I need to figure out what the hell I'm supposed to do with $1.5 million dollars and a dead man's warning.

But first, I need to make sure I have access to the account. I pull up my banking app, hands shaking as I type in the new account information. I have to move fast before she figures out a way to get her hands on it and blows it on drugs and alcohol.

My father's written words echo in my head. Take this money and run very far. Trust no one.

---