Page 118 of Trust Me

She laughs and looks upward.

“She was the cutest thing I’ve ever seen. All plump cheeks and curls everywhere. Anyway, Wallace says he has to go somewhere for a few days and asks if she can stay with me. I knew he was probably up to no good but I didn’t question it. I was trying to get my own life together. While he was gone, I would pick up on little things Eve would say or do to get her way.

“It went beyond the normal kid stuff of crying or faking to get what they want. She knew exactly what to say to make someone feel sorry for her. That day …” she gestures toward the picture in my hand, “we went to get ice cream. There was an older woman there who started gushing all over Eve. My sweet niece instantly started going into a story about how all she wanted for her birthday was two scoops of ice cream. But her aunt couldn’t afford it.

“I stood there stunned because it wasn’t her birthday and she knew it. And two, I never said anything about not being able to afford to get her what she wanted. I had told her I wouldn’t get the two scoops because I didn’t want to spoil her dinner.

“The old lady bought it. and before I knew it, my niece had the ice cream she wanted. Right then I knew. Even as I let her eat the ice cream and we took that photo, I knew I had to get her away from her father. He was teaching her to be a little con artist. The same way my father used me.

“People love a victim story. Even more so when there’s a cute kid attached to it. My father would have me lie about not having clothes or food or whatever, so he could get money. I didn’t want the same life for Eve. She shouldn’t have to grow up not knowing what it’s like not to be loved by your parent.

“I begged Wallace Jr. to let me raise her. I convinced him that having a kid would cramp his style. You know what he told me?”

She looks at me expectantly.

I shake my head.

“Pay me,” she scoffs. “He wanted me to pay him twenty-five-thousand dollars and he’d sign the papers that would give me full guardianship of Eve.”

She pauses and looks away.

“It’s not right and the irony isn’t lost on me, but that’s why I did to Brendan Chastain what I did. The money I stole from him I used to pay off my brother, gain custody of Eve, and then move out here to Williamsport.”

She shrugs.

“It’s probably why I’ve failed her. Because at the core of it all, I am what I am.”

“You haven’t failed her,” I say, the words coming out in a rush. “She’s amazing.”

“I obviously can’t give her what she needs,” Riley argues. “I thought sending her to that damn school was the best thing for her. Look how I fucked that up. She was being bullied and I didn’t even notice! How could I not see it?”

She shakes her head. “She thinks she’s a big loser.”

“That’s not your fault,” I growl. While I waited for the food I’d ordered to be delivered, I overheard Eve telling what she’d heard the leader of her dorm saying about her. That bitch just had the last day on her job. She won’t be able to find work, part-time, at a daycare center once I finish with her.

I pause briefly to rein in my anger. That fucking school will catch my wrath as soon as they open tomorrow.

“Have you ever considered that Eve might need some additional help?” I ask as gingerly as possible.

She wrinkles her forehead and looks at me with curiosity. “What type of help?” There’s a defensiveness in her question.

“Have you noticed that Eve can swing in different directions? She can be super focused one moment on something, and then a little … adrift the next?”

“She’s not adrift.” She stands from the bed and looks down at me, anger starting to rise.

“Not adrift then. Maybe unfocused is a better word.”

“She’s eleven.” Riley throws her hands out to the side. “There’s nothing wrong with her.”

“No.” I shake my head. “I’m not saying there’s something wrong.” Sighing, I ready myself to divulge things about my family I never talk about to anyone.

“When I was little, I hated reading.”

Squinting at me, she folds her arms across her chest but remains silent. I take that as an opportunity to keep going.

“My mother is a librarian. She reads hundreds of books a year. Reading is like my mother’s love language or some shit. My twin, Kennedy, is just like her. For a while, we all thought she’d become a librarian like our mom. But me?”

I scoff. “I would cry when she tried to get me to pick out a book at the library.”

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