Page 163 of Don't Say a Word
Angie was in her apartment. The place reeked of pot and stale beer. Her bedroom was clean and the window was open. I sat in her desk chair.
“So, you didn’t want to take Cal up on his offer of a place to live?”
“This is fine,” Angie said.
“You’re sure you’re okay?”
Angie nodded. “My mom is an addict—I know it. But I can’t force her to quit, and she hasn’t gone so far off the rails that she can’t pay the rent. Bruce is a jerk, but they’re okay together. He’s better than a lot of the men my mom brought home. And honestly, when I go to college, I’m not coming back. I don’t think she’ll notice.”
My upbringing was so different from Angie’s.
“You can always call me if you need a break. I don’t live far from here. We can go get pizza or something.”
“Maybe. I have friends. I can hang out at Gina’s anytime I want. Mrs. Martinelli said that as long as our grades don’t drop, I can even stay over on school nights.”
“She sounds great.”
“They all are.” Angie shifted on her bed. “I’m going back to school tomorrow. Gina is going to pick me up until I get this cast off and can walk again.”
“You two going to college together?”
Angie shrugged. “I doubt it. Gina has a volleyball scholarship to U of A. I don’t know if I’ll get enough financial aid and grants and scholarships to pay for it, and I don’t have any money. Mrs. Clark said she would help put it together, but...”
“You’d be surprised. My parents and my sister all graduated from U of A.”
“Not you?”
“Nope. I didn’t go to college. It wasn’t for me. But if it’s right for you, then I want to help.”
“I’m not taking any money from you.”
“I’m not offering,” I said, then laughed. “What I’m offering is my little sister, Luisa. She’s a computer whiz, and the smartest in the family. She’ll help you find every scholarship, grant, and financial aid package out there so that you won’t have to pay a dime.”
“Really? Why would she do that?”
“Because I’ll ask her to. She’s my sister, and she’d like you.”
Angie seemed surprised that someone would help without strings. She shrugged.
“Well, maybe. But I don’t know what I want to do with my life.”
“That’s okay. At seventeen I didn’t either.”
“How’d you know being a private investigator was right for you?”
“By doing it. When I solved my first case, I just knew. And I’ve never looked back.”
“So going to the Army was a waste of time?”
“Absolutely not. It helped me figure out who I was here.” I tapped my chest. “I know who I am, I’m happy with who I am. I love what I do. I didn’t like when I thought you were shot, and I hated that I couldn’t stop Manny Ramos before people died.” I’d thought I’d failed her. I didn’t want to feel that way again.
“I was scared,” Angie admitted. “I did some stupid things.”
“You sure did. And thank God you lived through it so hopefully you learned something.”
Angie looked at her phone. She blushed.
“Have to go?”
