It’s a distant memory now, that pride. Replaced by panic and worry and a whole lot of fear.
“Is this about your mom?” Iris asks. “I know about her mom,” she says to Wes.
He raises his eyebrows at me.
I’ve told Iris about Mom. Kind of. I’ve told her that she’s in prison, and that my sister lied when I moved so I wouldn’t be the new kid with a felon for a mother. But I haven’t told Iris who put her there. How. Why.
She doesn’t know what Mom is. She doesn’t know about the other girls. She thinks I’m Nora. Just Nora and I’ve never been Just Nora or Just anyone. I’ve always been more. Scheming and outthinking everyone because I don’t know how else to be. I don’t know what else to do but look for the exits and then plot how to get the mark to lead me right through them.
Iris looks from him to me, and I can see the moment it clicks in that brilliant, puzzle-loving brain of hers. “I don’t know about your mom?” and the fact that her words lift in question kills me.
“You don’t know everything,” I say quietly.
“Which means she knows nothing,” Wes snaps. “Fuck, Nora. I can’t believe—”
“You never tried to order me around when we were together, and you certainly don’t get to start now,” I snarl. “If you are going to ignore the risks I’m taking here—”
“What risks?” Iris demands.
I let out a long breath, my gaze skittering toward Casey, who’s pretending really hard like she’s not listening. We don’t have time for this. We have to make a move soon, or we’re all going to end up dying in this bank.
“My mom is in prison, like I said.” I can’t even look at her. I’m not ashamed, but I’m furious. This isn’t how I wanted to tell her. “What I didn’t say was that I am the one who put her there. Because I put my stepfather in there, and he’s the love of her life and she’d do anything for him, including pick him over me, which is what she did and why she’s in prison, because she wouldn’t take a plea deal that screwed him over. Now, if we’re done spilling all my personal shit on the table, can we please hoist me up into the air vent so we can hopefully get out of here alive?”
“Air vent?” Iris echoes dazedly.
“She wants to go in the air vent and open up the manager’s office from the inside for the robbers,” Wes explains.
Whatever Iris was feeling about my revelation seems to disappear in a second at this information. “What? No! This is not a James Bond movie!”
“Iris, think about it,” I say. “They need something in the manager’s office. They’ve only wanted to get into the basement and the office. So we can make the assumption that there’s something in the office they need before they get to the basement. Considering the safe-deposit boxes are down there, what do you think it is?”
She blinks, sucking in air, and she’s still reeling a little from my news, and I hate that I’ve dumped this on her. But it’s out there now. And it’s still just skating the surface of what I need to tell her.
Rebecca. Samantha. Haley. Katie. Ashley. All the girls come with stories. And they all came with consequences.
“The robbers need the keys to whatever boxes they want to open,” she says. “They must be in the office.”
“And if they get the keys, do you think that the one in charge is going to let the one in the red cap just go down there himself to grab whatever they came for?”
A slow smile tugs across her face. “They don’t trust each other.”
“We open the office, they find what they want inside, they’re gonna need to both go down to the basement. Leaving us unguarded. It’s at least an opportunity to get out.”
Now she’s looking up at the air vent. “We can pry this cover open, but you’re going to have to bust through the one in the office. They might hear it fall. Give me the scissors.”
I hand them to her, and she pulls up her skirt to expose the layers of her petticoat, cuts a long strip free, and hands it to me. “Tie that around the vent cover before you apply pressure. If it pops free, it’ll dangle instead of fall.”
I wrap it around my wrist like a bracelet. “Iris—”
She shakes her head, cutting me off. “It’s not a great plan, but you’re right. We need to give ourselves a chance.”
I want to say something, but any explanation I give is going to take forever, and we don’t have time. “Turn around, both of you.”