Page 72 of Web of Lies
Soft footsteps walking down the stairs draw my attention away from the TV. Glancing up, I spot Evelyn walking into the kitchen. It's a familiar sight: she's wearing flowy shorts and a top, with one of Noah's button-up shirts draped over her shoulders. She pours herself a cup of coffee with creamer, steps around the counter, and joins me on the sofa.
"Good morning again. Did you manage to catch a bit more sleep?" she asks.
"Not a second. You?" My gaze meets hers.
"A little. I'm used to Noah leaving this early, but I must admit knowing Riley is with him feels strange."
"I agree. Do you think they'll be okay?"
"I can't think of a reason why they shouldn't," she says, bringing her cup to her lips.
"Riley didn't want to be alone with him."
"She'll be fine." She pulls her legs up onto the sofa, scooting back to get comfortable in the cushions. "I told Noah to be nice and patient."
"Nice and patient," I say with a scoff. "We both know those qualities are reserved for you."
"That includes being kind to others when I ask him to."
"We'll see." I won't believe it until I see it. "Nice" and "patient" aren't exactly words people use to describe my brother, other than her. He's got the patience of a grenade pin. But she can make him sit, stay, and roll over without him lashing out. "One day, you need to tell me how the hell you turned him into your lapdog."
"I think you can answer that question yourself," she says with a chuckle, taking another sip of her coffee.
"Oh, I do. I've actually witnessed it more times than I'd like."
She freezes, then looks at me with wide eyes. "Excuse me?"
A laugh escapes my throat as I shake my head. "Don't act innocent. You two don't know how to be quiet or subtle."
"Kyle." She chokes on her coffee.
"Relax." I shoot her a smirk, then look back at my bowl and scoop up the last of my cereal, pretending to be casual while my smirk widens. I then lift the bowl to my lips and drink the last of the milk before placing the empty dish on the table in front of me.
"You realize we have more than cereal you can eat for breakfast, don't you?" Evelyn scoffs.
"I know. But I'm stressed, and sugar eases the pressure." It's true; sugar has always been my shortcut, or rather, my quick fix. Honestly, it sometimes works better than my medication. The buzzing in my brain quiets down, and I can focus. The difference is that the high fades too fast, leaving me shaky, foggy, and even more exhausted than before. I know this habit isn't sustainable, but when I feel trapped, that sweet hit is the only thing that keeps me from losing it.
"I remember," she says, a lopsided smile pulling at the corners of her mouth. "I've seen you eat an entire box of cereal in one day. Is there anything we can do to help you feel less stressed?"
After a brief silence, I reach for the remote and silence the sitcom. "What do you think about Riley's progress? I know you two have been watching, although you tried to be subtle about it."
Evelyn perks up and lowers her cup again, letting out a sigh. "She's getting there, but she's still very much at the beginning."
"What do you mean? She's been pushing herself hard." My eyebrows shoot up. She has made impressive progress in just a few days, and although she's not quite ready, she's been putting in a lot of effort.
"She's determined, no doubt," she says, her voice calm. "But when I look at her, I don't see that one crack, the one thing that pushes someone over the edge. I know she wants to be ready, but I'm not sure she's there yet."
"She'll get there. But if she hesitates, I'll end it before it turns ugly."
"I would very much appreciate that," she says, setting her cup on the table with a soft clink. "I understand why she wants to handle it herself. We've all been in her shoes. But wanting and being able to do something are different. I just can't help but worry."
"I know," I say, reaching out to place my hand on Evelyn's thigh and give it a gentle squeeze. It's not like I'm not worried about the whole ordeal. Riley has never killed anyone before. She's only ever witnessed death from a safe distance on security tapes and in reports. The crimes she has committed up to this point are child's play compared to the one she is preparing to commit.
"I think we can agree that she will need support when this is over."
"I'll be there," I say. But Evelyn furrows her brows.
"I just hope you won't show her the same level of support that you show Noah."
