Page 105 of Judgment

His mouth tips down in a frown but he steps back, giving me room to get out.

I catch Sal’s eyes in the mirror. “Thank you.”

He tips his head my way. “It’s my pleasure, Miss Davis.”

Andre takes my hand, pulling me from the car and into his side, tucking my new coat closer during the few steps into the building.

He doesn’t let me go the whole ride up to his penthouse.

Or once we walk in.

His arm stays tight around me as we walk through the den, passing his office, and down the hall.

Once we’re in his room he closes the door and begins taking off my coat, silent as his fingers work the buttons free.

“He lied to me.” My chin quivers a little. “He didn’t get her into the study.”

Andre slides the coat from my shoulders. “Her doctor?”

I nod. “Dr. Marshall.” I wipe at the edge of my eye, hoping to stop the tear trying to sneak free. “They said he was stealing people’s money.”

Andre tosses my coat onto the chair before removing his own and adding it on top of mine, followed by his jacket. He tips his head to the bed. “Sit.”

I drop down to the edge. “He said he thought she could get better.”

Andre crouches in front of me and unties my boots, pulling them free and letting them drop to the floor. Then he kicks off his own shoes and stretches out on the bed, holding his arms open. “Come here.”

I crawl toward him and tuck close, resting my head on his chest.

One warm hand curves against the back of my skull while the other slides up and down my back in slow sweeps.

He doesn’t say a word and neither do I.

There’s nothing to say.

My mother’s going to die.

I sniff as my nose starts to run and my eyes begin to water.

This slope is a slippery one, greased by too many years of pretending I’m strong.

Pretending I’m fine.

Pretending everything will be okay.

I almost fooled myself into believing it was all true.

The first sob springs free, curving my spine with its strength. The second one chases right after it, coming so quickly they seem to blur together.

And they don’t stop.

They don’t slow.

I press my face into Andre’s shirt, soaking it with tears and snot as I mourn the loss of hope.

The loss of time.

At some point I’m too exhausted to keep going, so my sobs stall out, replaced by sharp and shuddering breaths that I’m powerless to control.

---