Page 55 of The Lies of Bryn van Doren

They each mutter soft farewells and Jessica rests the side of her head against the window as she continues to stare in at her mother. She looks so fragile, so alone, Jessica can hardly stand it. When her vision grows blurry with tears, she forces in a deep breath and shakes her head clear. She blinks away the excess moisture in her eyes, steels herself, and then reenters the room. She returns to the seat she vacated a few minutes ago, wrapping her hand around her mother’s once more. It’s the steady beat of her heart mimicked by the monitor that lulls Jessica into listless sleep.

Jessica wakes withthe sun, feeling as though she’s hardly slept. When she moves to sit up, Beth opens her eyes, and they exchangegood mornings, the words a feeble attempt to preserve any semblance of normalcy in an otherwise hard situation. They aren’t alone for long before a nurse comes in to check on things. A half hour later, Dr. Montgomery makes his first round of the day. There’s little change to Beth’s condition, outside of the medication and oxygen helping to control her cough, but this comes as little surprise. Still, the doctor is able to leave with a hopeful smile on his face, which provides Jessica with a modicum of comfort. It’s a comfort she clings to as she looks at the time, realizing she has to step out for a while.

“I’m sorry, mom, but I have to run an errand. I should probably head home and get a shower, too.”

“Oh, go, baby,” she wheezes with a wave of her hand. “I certainly don’t expect you to stay here all day. Jackie told me she’d stop by if she could get someone to cover her. Anyway, one of us has to work.”

“Yeah,” Jessica replies, forcing a smile.

“I hate that I’m a burden to you. We were already struggling before I—”

“Mom, no, don’t,” Jessica insists with a scowl. She leans in close, kissing Beth’s cheek before she props her forehead against hers. “You’re not a burden to me any more than I’ve ever been a burden to you.”

“This isn’t how things are supposed to be,” she breathes.

“We’re going to be fine, mom. I’m going to make sure of it, okay?”

“You’re twenty-four years old. This isn’t the life I—”

“Mama, you’re sick,” Jessica states, righting herself. With a shake of her head, she goes on to say, “I’m not going to argue with you about how my lifeshouldorshouldn’tbe. I’m going to go. I’m going to grab a shower, I’m going to run my errand, and then I’ll be back. I’ll bring lunch. And you’re not going to lecture me about what my lifeshouldlook like. There’s only one thing I know for sure, and it’s that I can’t live without you—so you’re going to get better, and I’m going to handle the rest, get me?”

Beth hesitates, the expression in her eyes the only evidence Jessica needs to know emotions are high. She can feel her own ache in the form of pressure behind her eyes, threatening more tears. Rather than wait for her mother’s reply, she starts for the door, waving as she crosses into the hallway.

“Love you. I’ll be back as soon as I can.”

It’s the look on her mother’s face which helps Jessica fully accept what she’s about to do. Beth’s worry is enough to feed her stubborn resolve to do whatever it takes to support them. As she makes her way out of the hospital, she does so with her head held high. Whatever reservations or doubts she had before are dried up now. Her shame is no longer, completely eradicated by her need to keep her promise. She’s convinced, if she holds up her end of the deal, Beth will have no choice but to hold up her end, as well. All Jessica wants is for her mother to get better. For her mother tolive—and she’ll do whatever she has to, to ensure that happens.

It takes an hour for Jessica to make it home, shower, and get ready for her appointment. Before she leaves for the subway, she tosses a few of Beth’s paperbacks into her purse. It’s not much, but she hates to think of her mother away from the words that offer her the escape she loves the most. As she locks up their home behind her, she gets lost in her thoughts of Beth. It’s not long before she realizes, in order to make her believe they really will be okay, she’s going to have to come up with a lie that explains where her money is coming from and how she’s spending her time when she’s not at the hospital.

From now on, I’m Khalohn. Khalohn Morgan.

Boarding her first train to Tribeca, Jessica wonders what she might be able to find out about the man who, for all intents and purposes, is her employer.

A man with the kind of money he throws around can’t be hard to find, right?she thinks as she pulls out her phone.

The nerves in her belly fire in alert as she types his name into the Google search bar. When she sees Khalohn’s photograph appear with a Wikipedia page, her eyes widen in surprise. Her thumb hovers over the link, but the nerves in her belly twist into knots at the thought. There’s something sorealabout thefactsthat defineKhalohn Morgan—the business mogul. The thought ofreadingabout the man she knows literally nothing about feels wrong. Still, she can’t stop her eyes from glancing at the preview text:

Khalohn G. Morgan is an American businessman and financial executive. He’s the founder, CEO and president of the Khalohn Morgan Group. His company is the fastest growing acquisition firm to hit New York City in the last decade.

Born:February 2, 1984 (age 35) Philadelphia, PA

Education:New York University, Columbia University

Before she can read any further, she blacks out her screen, suddenly a little short of breath.

He’s thirty-five,she thinks, her mind immediately filtering through her memories of his solid, chiseled body. Her cheeks grow warm and her stomach drops in that weightless way it does at the recollection of his touch. She forces a swallow, her eyes darting around her in a desperate attempt to focus on something else. Anything else. As the train comes to a stop, passengers come and go, and she remembers why she even thought to look up Mr. Morgan in the first place.

It’s another two stops before she can wrap her mind around the fact that Khalohn is the founder, CEO and president of a company that is his namesake. She doesn’t think at all of his age. It’s too personal. Tooreal.While she’s not entirely sure the extent to which anacquisition firmoperates, she’s smart enough to figure out the man is rich, and business is noteworthy enough for him to have his own Wikipedia page. By the time she transfers trains, taking her further into the city, she knows what she’ll tell Beth.

The idea of being a night shift assistant sounds like a stretch, but it’ll have to do. Reminding herself the lie is only temporary, Jessica doesn’t give it anymore thought. The closer she gets to Tribeca, the more aware she becomes that she’s got other things to worry about—namely the task she’s been assigned to have an entire loft decorated. A loft purchased for her use. An apartment offered as part of the transactional relationship she’s agreed to. A residence with which she will not allow herself to become comfortable.

Unit 601 is just that.

The apartment on Broadway.

Days in thehospital are long. While the doctors say Beth’s condition is improving, it’s happening at such a slow rate Jessica can hardly tell. When Beth’s not sleeping, she’s reading, the television turned on with the volume low to help the time pass for Jessica. In order to have the excuse to get out, Jessica fetches their meals. Sometimes they settle for hospital cuisine, other times she ventures out of the building for something better. Their conversations are held in whispers and soft tones, as if they both fear speaking at a louder volume might ignite a coughing fit.

By Wednesday, Jessica feels guilty for her boredom—watching and waiting for her mother to bebetter. After leaving unit 601 on Monday afternoon, she swore to herself she wouldn’t go back until it was finished and Michelle had surrendered her keys. She doesn’t want to be invested in the space. She doesn’t want to see it in various stages of completion. She doesn’t want to get attached. Even still, she thinks of the apartment often, wondering about it, longing for a different space—someplace less sterile.

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