Page 99 of Dead Man's List

“Will do, Pop.”

Stopping in one of the bathrooms to grab an empty trash can, Kit slipped into the spare room and quietly set the can next to Akiko’s bed. Her sister wore a serious frown, even in her sleep. Kit stroked her hair, hoping to get her to let go of whatever had followed her into her dreams.

Akiko stirred and stared blearily up at Kit. “You’re here.”

“I am,” Kit whispered. “You’re drunk.”

“I was,” Akiko said sadly. “Still am, li’l bit. Sorry.”

“Hey, no judgments. But I am worried. Does this have to do with that call you got about your mom?”

Akiko nodded. “Was thinking about how she justleftme on the steps of a firehouse, in abox. When I was really little, I was told that I’d had a photo of her, but it got lost somewhere. She put a picture of herself in the box with me.”

Kit sat on the edge of the bed, continuing to stroke her sister’s hair, unsure of what to say. It was unusual for Akiko to be so melancholy. “I never had anything of my mom’s. I’m sorry you lost that picture.”

“I don’t know what she looked like. If I do meet with that woman, how will I know if she’s telling the truth? Any pictures she shows me will be like a stranger.”

“Maybe she has more than photos. If she’s got hair, maybe we can do a DNA test.”

“Thought about that. But how likely is she to have my mother’s hair?”

“I don’t know. But youwillwait to call her back, right? Until I can go with you?”

“I promised I wouldn’t go alone. Mmm. Feels good.”

Kit continued to stroke Akiko’s hair. It was long, black, and so silky. “You’ve always had the prettiest hair. I wished mine looked like yours when we were teenagers.”

Akiko huffed a laugh. “I wanted blond hair like yours. You’re pretty.”

“You’re prettier.”

Akiko pinched her hard.

“Ouch! What was that for?” Kit asked, rubbing her arm.

“For not just saying thank you. Just say thank you, Kitty-Cat.”

“Thank you,” Kit said obediently. “You ready to sleep now?”

“You’ll stay here with me?”

“Until I have to go to work in the morning.”

“I got no work in the morning,” Akiko lamented. “Had to cancel my charter because I’m too chickenshit to go out on my own.”

“Not chickenshit. Smart is what you are. Say it with me. Smart.”

Akiko giggled, sounding like the girl she’d once been. “Smart. Love you.”

“Love you, too. Here.” Kit got an aspirin from the bottle Betsy had left on Akiko’s nightstand along with a bottle of water. “Take this. You’ll thank me tomorrow.”

“Can I thank you tonight?”

Kit leaned down and kissed Akiko’s forehead. “Sure.”

Akiko snuggled closer. “You kissed me. Is it my birthday?”

She’d meant the question in jest, Kit was certain, but it still stung.