Page 180 of The Liar's Reckoning

“I didn’t realize Dr. Roger would be such a dick. I think Avery actually wanted you to get something. She looked like she felt terrible.”

“Not terrible enough.” I pick up the pen, wanting this over with.

“I’ll waive my fees,” my lawyer Jerry says. Lilah knows him from her pre-law days. He’s a nice guy—too nice, maybe. He’s about my age with ebony skin, horn-rimmed glasses, and a heavy Nigerian accent.

“That’s not necessary,” Lilah says. “You mentioned this could happen.”

Jerry says, “My wife’s sister had something similar happen to her—she had to leave our city. Change her name. All because she fell for a rich, married man who took advantage of her innocence.”

Lilah is captured by this. “How old was she?”

“Only twenty.”

“Where did she go?”

I’m signing and initialing, vaguely paying attention to their conversation.

“London,” Jerry says.

“Is she doing okay?”

“She’s married now. A baby on the way.”

“Congratulations.”

Done with the paperwork, I slam down the pen and shove away from the table in my rolling chair. “Leaving the country sounds like a great idea,” I say.

“Don’t you dare,” Lilah says.

“Yeah,” I concede. “You’re right. It’s gonna be Florida.”

The three of us stand. Jerry gathers the paperwork, and I start for the door. Lilah is hot on my heels. “You’re not serious.”

“I don’t want to be here anymore,” I say. My decision is made and it’s final.

“And you think you’ll have a better time of it in Florida?”

“Rent will be cheaper. They might even give me a room at the retirement home in exchange for work.”

“Silas, no. You don’t really want to leave New York, do you?”

I do. I can barely stand being in my apartment. I hate seeing Holden and Blake Lawther coming and going at The Eastmoor.My money is running out despite the increase in my doorman salary, and I’ve lost touch with almost everyone I once called a friend.

I’ve never lived anywhere else, but maybe it’s time. God knows I could use a fresh start. Trixie’s been practically begging me to move, and she’s my only family—my only home.

“Let’s go get a drink and talk,” Lilah says.

“Not now,” I tell her, pressing the down button at the elevator.

“What are you gonna do? Where are you going?”

“If you need to know, I’m going to my apartment. No offense, I just don’t want company.”

“If you change your mind…”

“I’ll text you.”

She gives me a hug on the sidewalk after a quiet elevator ride. “I love you,” she says quietly.

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