Page 250 of The Billion Heirs Boxed Set

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She nods, swallowing. “Sometimes. Just that last year. It was more important for you to eat.”

How could I have missed my mother fading away before my eyes?

Easy. I was in love. First love, true love.

“You were a child, Avery. Don’t punish yourself for what you failed to notice. It was fifteen years ago. Besides…”

“Besides what?”

She clears her throat. “You may not feel any guilt at all once you hear the whole truth from me.”

My blood chills in my veins. What whole truth? Sure, I know Chance didn’t write that Dear Jane letter, but what else could my mother be keeping from me?

“Like I said, I was worried. Money was scarce, and—”

Adolescent feet clomp in the distance, and the screen door opens. “Mom? Grams? I thought we were going out to dinner. I’m starved.”

Grady.

He ambles toward us, his tall and lanky frame so much like Chance’s at that age. And that hair. That fiery auburn hair…

“What’s going on?” He glances between us.

“We’re just talking,” Mom says.

“Can you talk at dinner? Mom said we were going out.”

Ah, to be a teenage boy, with a life that revolves around constantly filling your stomach.

“I did say that.” I force a smile. “Go wash your hands. Grandma and I will be right out.”

He holds his palms out. “Already done.”

“Homework?” I ask.

“All done too. My stomach’s a tomb, Mom.” He pats his belly.

I gaze at my mother. Whatever she’s keeping from me will have to wait. My son—and his appetite—comes first.

And then an ice pick spears my heart.

My son is hungry, and I have the means to feed him.

My God, what would I do if I couldn’t? What must my mother have felt? The fear that she might not be able to feed her child?

And oh my God…

What did she do to make sure I’d never go hungry?

And I know, as if I’ve always known.

No aunt died, leaving us money.

I look to my mom. She doesn’t say a word but I can read it on her face. Being back in Bayfield has given me a closer sense to how things were.

To feed her child, my mother entered into a deal with the devil himself.

Jonathan Bridger.

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