Page 90 of Not Quite Dead Yet

‘Grab the rest,’ she told Billy, heading toward the toilet.

She dropped the yellow capsules in, floating and twirling in the waiting water, keeping just one, sliding it into her back pocket.

Billy followed her, double-handed, with the rest.

Jet flushed and the pills disappeared in a rushing whirlwind, Billy’s hand skimming hers as they watched, side by side.

‘To Sophia’s house?’ he asked.

Jet cracked her neck, bit down on her back teeth.

‘There’s going to be a lot of yelling, isn’t there?’

‘I’ll go in alone,’ Jet said. ‘I’ll get more out of her alone. You wait down the street.’

‘But –’

‘– Don’t worry, I won’t turn my back on her, in case she has any more hammers lying around. I want to see her face when she realizes that I know. That she’s been killing my dad. Should have just kept you as my best friend, huh, Billy? You’re not the poisoning type.’

Billy sniffed. ‘Yeah, you should’ve.’

‘One more thing.’

Jet walked back to her dad’s sink, picked up her bottle of Lotrel pills, untampered with. She placed them in her dad’scabinet, in the exact same spot where his had lived, closed the door.

Her final gift to him. Jet didn’t need the pills anymore. And maybe it wasn’t too late for her dad.

She caught herself in the mirror again, the fire behind both eyes, filling that endless black pit and whatever lay underneath, held together with screws and wire mesh.

‘To Sophia’s,’ Jet said. ‘I am going to … fuck … her … u–’

20

‘Up?’ Sophia asked, singsong high, looking down at the baby, both his arms raised. ‘You wantupout of the high chair?’

At least Cameron wasn’t still screaming, like this morning.

He changed his mind, lowering his arms, shoving another tiny floret of broccoli into his mouth, mashing it around.

‘Sorry, Jet.’ Sophia ruffled Cameron’s hair. ‘Right in the middle of dinnertime. What were you saying?’

‘How was Pilates this morning?’

Sophia pursed her lips. ‘Um, it was good. Why?’

‘Just checking in with you, sister. Having a chitchat, see how your day’s been.’ Jet leaned against the doorway, only half in the kitchen. ‘Mine’s been a bit shit, thanks for asking. Been to the hospital, can’t move my right arm anymore, so that’s an interesting development on top of the whole only-having-three-and-a-half-days-left-to-live thing. But I’m glad Pilates was good.’

Jet crossed the threshold into the room, spotting something on the counter. ‘Stop it,’ she almost laughed. ‘More baking?’ She pointed to the cake on the side, white icing, blue edging. ‘Aren’t you just the perfect housewife?’

‘Oh.’ Sophia handed Cameron a piece of shredded chicken. ‘That’s for Cameron’s best friend, Noah. It’s his first birthday tomorrow, having a little party.’

‘You’re too much, Sophia,’ Jet said darkly, staring down at the cake. ‘Make the rest of us look bad.’

‘Haven’t finished it yet.’ Sophia stepped closer, throwing a dish towel over her shoulder. ‘Need to do the writing.’

Jet nodded. ‘Where’s that going? In the middle, here?’ Jet pointed down at the cake, pretended to write with her finger. ‘Happy First Birthday Noah.’ But her finger kept going, an indent in the icing, then a hole, then right the way through, grabbing an entire handful right out the middle.

‘Jet!’ Sophia shrieked. ‘What are you doing? You’ve ruined it!’

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