Page 83 of Seven of Hearts

She needed this family as much as I did.

For so long I had been running from it, trying to validate my existence by proving I didn’t need anyone, not realizing that needing people was never the issue.

There were no bonus points awarded for shouldering life’s burdens alone.

My phone buzzed in my pocket. It was after hours on the east coast, but I had been expecting a call from my apartment’s leasing office in Chicago. It looked like they were squeezing in one last phone call before the day ended in central time.

I swiped across the screen as I pulled it out of my pocket. “Hello?” I said as I dropped my plate on the poker table, and stood to slip out.

“You are about to receive a collect call fromCheryl Boyd, an inmate housed at the North Carolina Correctional Institution for Women, calling forLogan Boyd. Before accepting this collect telephone call, please be advised that accepting a collect call will cost you more than it would if you prepaid for this collect call. If you want to accept this collect call, please press three. To prevent future calls from this facility, please press seven.”

I froze.

I had been dodging calls from my mom for weeks. I knew what she wanted, and I felt guilty for it. But I had new priorities.

Will looked at me curiously over his slice of pizza.

“Excuse me,” I muttered as I slipped out the double doors that led to the DeRossis’ strip of sand along the water.

I waited until the crowd was away from me before I pressed three. I dropped onto the sand and waited as the automated voice reminded me that the call would be monitored and recorded.

I heard the click as the call connected, and dread filled my gut.

“Logan?”

“Yeah. Uh, yeah. I’m here.” I was regretting even bringing my phone with me to poker night.

I should have just ignored the call.

Mom let out a sigh of relief. Or at least that’s what it was supposed to sound like. “I was starting to worry something awful had happened to you. You haven’t been accepting my calls.”

“I’ve just had a lot going on,” I said evasively.

Her fake concern turned to annoyance. “So much going on that you can’t talk to your own mother?”

“I don’t have a lot of time to talk,” I said, hoping she’d make it quick.

“Well, I’ve got a lot to tell you,” she said. “It might take more than a minute.”

She had no motivation to make it quick when every minute was charged to me.

Noise from the house grew louder, floating outside. “Look, Mom, I’ve gotta?—”

“I’m getting out,” she said.

Those were the only three words that could have surprised me more than Leah telling me she was pregnant.

“Early?” I managed to stutter.

“Yep. Good behavior and overcrowding. I don’t know the official date, but I was hoping you could fly down here. Lord knows your sister won’t come see me.”

She didn’t know I was in North Carolina now. She thought I was still in Chicago.

“But listen. I need a little something on my books. I know you don’t mind. Do you think you could make that happen? I might need some extra too so I can have it when I get out.”

Footsteps swished through the grass behind me.

“I can’t,” I said.

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