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At the Quiet Edge(94)

Author:Victoria Helen Stone

“Oh.”

Oh. Just that small, awful sound of pain. She wanted to wail. Beg for forgiveness or rage against the unfairness or anything to get some of this fear out of her soul. But she didn’t have the right. Not now. “I’m so sorry. I was afraid he’d . . . It’s no excuse, I suppose, but I thought he’d try to manipulate you and cause more pain, and—”

“He did.”

“Ev—”

“He wanted me to bring him this.” He shook it.

Lily gasped. He wanted Everett to bring the notebook to him? Fury clapped through her like lightning. “When? When is that supposed to happen?”

“Tomorrow. When I get to school. And I wanted to see him. I wanted to see him, so . . .” His face fell into sadness. Her poor son.

“Tomorrow,” Lily whispered, the word catching against her teeth. Tomorrow.

Now she knew exactly what she needed to do.

CHAPTER 30

When his mom grew quiet with her own thoughts, Everett’s panic subsided, and he realized his mistake.

He didn’t need the notebook anymore. He didn’t need his dad to leave. Whatever Alex Bennick was, he wasn’t the killer, so there was no urgency to call the police, and no need to chase his dad off.

It had been a crazed moment of frenzy, and it had been wrong. Or maybe . . . maybe he’d just wanted the book for himself because it was his dad’s and it was his, and he needed it for that reason.

His fingers loosened on the leather, but he kept it close to his body, afraid to move too quickly and draw his mom’s attention back to it.

His ploy failed, because she inclined her head toward his hands. “This has to be about money, some account somewhere, and that money isn’t his, Everett. It never was. He stole it from hardworking people.”

He nodded. Because he knew it was true, yes, but also because it didn’t matter now. He could keep the book with him, a memory he could hold and feel.

“I’ll take you to school tomorrow,” his mom said darkly. “No bus. And I’ll pick you up.”

“Okay.”

Squeezing her eyes shut, she pressed a hand hard to her forehead, turning her fingertips white. “Maybe I should just keep you home,” she murmured.

He could hear the fear in her voice, and it had to be bad because she never let him stay home if he wasn’t sick. Her face twisted in something that looked like physical pain. Everett dared to set his treasure down on the table and go to her.

She sucked in a breath when he put his arms around her; then she clasped him tightly. “I love you so much,” she rasped. “You’re the best thing in my world. And none of this is a disaster. It’s not. You’re just . . . You know it’s wrong to take things, right?”

He nodded desperately, afraid she might change her mind about loving him, after all. Afraid she’d think it over and realize he hadn’t ever been worth loving. “I know. I’m sorry.”

“That has to stop right now,” she said, squeezing him even harder. “You’re twelve now, and this is something a twelve-year-old might do, a mistake, but what happens when you’re sixteen? Eighteen? Thirty?”

“I’m sorry,” he croaked. “I don’t even know why I did it.”

“Do you remember where you got those things? Because we should return them.”

“Most of them.”

“Okay. Okay.” She took a deep breath that felt like it lifted his body up. “And you need to write a letter apologizing to Alex.”

“I will.”

When she pressed a long kiss to the top of his head, everything inside him went soft. In this moment, right now, he could feel that she still loved him, that she hadn’t given up. “I love you, Mom.”

“I love you like crazy, Ev.”

After one last squeeze, she pulled away to look down at him. “I need to lock that back up.”

“It’s mine,” he said quickly, regretting it immediately. He’d just been worried she might stop loving him. So why had he said that? He couldn’t think straight.

“I know it’s yours. And once things settle down, you and I will decide what to do with it. But right now your dad is hunting for this and the police are circling, and a locked cabinet is a safer place than under your bed.”

He knew she was right, but he still wanted to grab it and hold it like he was some kind of baby who needed his toy. But he wasn’t a baby, so he nodded. “Okay.”

His mom took it without waiting a beat, and he heard the clinking of her keys as she locked it up in the office. It was there. He knew where it was. He could probably even sneak the keys if he needed to.

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