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Credence(30)

Author:Penelope Douglas

“Spill over?”

Who is this woman? What arrogance to think I can’t handle this? I mean, I can’t, but she doesn’t know that.

“I’m sure you’ve noticed that she’s quiet,” Patel tells me.

And? If a quiet kid is all I’m dealing with, then maybe I do have all the experience necessary to handle this.

“And you think you can raise her better?” I ask.

“I think you don’t know her. I do.”

I squeeze my fist around the phone.

A stranger I’ve never met or heard of until today lays claim to my brother’s child and she thought this conversation was going to go well?

“And I think if I turn over guardianship of Tiernan to you,” I say, “that puts you in charge of not only her emotional support, but her finances, as well. Am I right, Ms. Patel?”

She falls silent, and I smile to myself. Why else would someone who has no obligation to an underage orphan want that responsibility unless that underage orphan is loaded?

But then she speaks up, her tone firm. “I’ve had access to her finances since I started working for her parents ten years ago,” she says. “I can be trusted. Can you?”

I narrow my eyes.

“Just think of what all those millions will do for your business, Mr. Van der Berg,” she says.

And I clench my teeth so goddamn hard an ache flashes through my jaw like lightning. Is that what she thinks? I would sooner flush that money down the fucking toilet.

“Her place…” I finally grit out, “is with her family.”

“Her place is with someone who loves her.”

“This conversation is over.”

And I start to pull the phone away from my ear.

But then I hear her voice again and stop. “She used to wake up every night around one in the morning,” Patel says. “Like clockwork and without an alarm. Did you know that, Mr. Van der Berg?”

I remain silent, unsure if she’s telling the truth and hating that she knows something I don’t, if it is.

“Do you know why?” she taunts further.

I glance into the stable at Tiernan, watching her hop out of one of the stalls with her arm covering her nose and mouth as she dry heaves at the smell. Noah pats her on the back, silently laughing behind her, but then she swats at him, and he just laughs harder.

“You would think ‘her family’ would know that about her,” Patel mocks me. “Goodbye, Mr. Van der Berg.”

And then the line is dead.

I stare at my screen for a moment and then back at Tiernan. She and Noah are bantering back and forth, a big ass grin on his face and keeping the rake from her as she tries to take it back. Finally, she grabs hold of it and marches back into the stall.

I smile to myself. She’s stronger than that woman gives her credit for. Mirai Patel may care about Tiernan, but she’s had her for ten years. What good did it do the kid? That woman had her chance.

Pulling a cloth out of my back pocket, I head into the stable, shaking out the square and matching two corners to make a triangle. Finding Tiernan in a stall, I see her bent over, shuffling the hay with her ponytail sticking out the back of one of Noah’s caps.

“Hey.” I touch her back.

She jerks up and spins around, bumping into my chest.

I hold up the cloth, gesturing toward her face.

“It’s clean,” I tell her. “It’ll help with the smell.”

I move to tie it around her nose and mouth, but she shakes her head. “I’m okay.”

I laugh under my breath, expecting as much. “Why are you so stubborn?”

And I move around her, tying it at the back of her head before she has a chance to fight me more.

Coming around the front, I only see her eyes peering out from under the cap and the rest covered with the handkerchief.

She looks like a bank robber, and I almost snort, but she doesn’t look happy right now, so I keep the joke to myself.

“You don’t have to be so tough,” I tease, knocking the bill of her cap. “It fuckin’ stinks in here. You’ll get used to it, though.”

But instead of saying ‘thank you’, she simply turns back around and continues working.

I stand there a moment, my muscles tight with slight frustration. I’m sure you’ve noticed that she’s quiet.

Yeah, lady, she’s quiet. Slowly, I turn to leave, but I glance over my shoulder at her once again.

But when I do, she’s staring at me. She’s stopped raking.

Her eyes, dark under the shadow of the cap, make my heart skip a beat, and I pause.

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