Page 182 of The Liar's Reckoning

“What does that mean?” I’m sitting straighter, tense at the thought of anything bad—worse—happening to Silas because of me.

“He looked broken.”

Yeah. I know. That’s exactly the way I left him. To get her off my back and let her off the hook, I say, “He’s probably just broke.”

“I guess. Still, if you do talk to him or give him some money, will you let me know? I’ll feel better.”

“Sure, Avery. Anything to help.”

“Don’t be like that,” she chides. “I didn’t want it to go this way, either.”

I believe her, but it’s cold comfort.

“Thanks for the update, but I need to let you go. I have some other calls to make.” Lies.

“Have a safe trip,” she tells me, and I hang up with a brisk goodbye.

It’s after ten when I arrive at my apartment, but Theresa is still awake watching a reality show in the living room with a pint of ice cream and a spoon in hand. She mutes the television when she sees me and motions me over to sit with her. I do, leaning my head on her shoulder and opening my mouth for her to feed me a spoonful of buttered pecan.

“How’s Washington?”

“Humid,” I tell her.

“And work?”

“Gross.”

“Strong word.”

“I can’t help it. It’s gross. Am I naive in general or is it just that no one can possibly know how dirty politics are until you’re involved in them.”

“A little of both, probably. You’ve always sort of dawdled when it came to growing up.”

Is that what this is? Is my conscience a late bloomer, too? Someone really should study my brain.

“But,” she says, “You always seemed content with being sheltered. I think you were born missing your rebel streak. You never even cried as a kid. Easiest baby ever.”

She’s seven years older than I am. There were a lot of miscarriages between her birth and mine.

“Is work the only thing that’s got you down?” she asks.

“No,” I admit.

“Is it him?”

She means Silas. “Yeah.”

“Did something happen?”

A lot of things she doesn’t know about have happened. The Hamptons. The lawsuit. The kiss that shredded my soul. “I’ve run into him a few times. He lost another job.”

“Oh, God. Really?” She sighs. “Is he gonna be okay?”

“I don’t know,” I answer honestly.

“Are you?”

“I don’t know that either.”

---