Last Breath (The Good Daughter 0.5)(40)

Charlie closed her eyes.

She thought about her mother’s gentle touch as she stroked back Charlie’s hair. Her soothing voice. Her gentle assurances. Her logical reasoning that no matter how bad things got, they would always, always get better. The sharp, hot slap of blood from when the trigger was pulled on the shotgun.

Charlie opened her eyes.

Good thing she hadn’t told Flora that part of the story.

Don’t worry about me, Miss Quinn. I’ll figure something out.

“Chuck?” Ben was staring at her, concerned. “Does the fire have something to do with what happened to you today?”



Charlie nodded. She was crying again, though not from hope this time, but from despair.

How complicit was she in the deaths of Maude and Leroy Faulkner? Oliver already had a record. He would go to prison for the rest of his life. Flora had not only managed to free herself, she had wrapped up the meth-trafficking case in a pretty bow. Any lawyer worth his salt could persuade a jury that the poor girl was a victim of her meth-dealing grandparents and her arsonist boyfriend.

And Charlie had practically written the girl a guide on how to do it.

“Chuck.” Ben pressed his lips to the top of her head. “What’s wrong?”

“I’m a terrible person.”

“Come on, don’t say that.”

“I am,” Charlie cried. How had she been so blind? “I’m going to make a horrible mother.”

“I’m not going to let you talk like that.” Ben pulled her hands away from her face. “Look at me, Chuck. I know you can’t tell me what happened today, but I’m here. I’m always here. Whatever it is, we’ll face it together. You and me. Always.”

“Do you promise?”

“Of course I promise.” Ben held tight to her hands. “I love you.”

“I love you, too.” She kissed his hands. She thought about what might be growing inside of her belly. “With my last breath.”

Another corny line, but true.

Ben gave her his awkward grin. He wiped the tears from her eyes. “I’ve got at least an hour before they’re ready for me. What do you want for dinner?”

She shook her head. She couldn’t think about eating.

“Okay, Chef’s choice.” He stood up and went to the fridge. “Chicken? Hm … that chicken looks kind of gamey.”



Charlie reached into her purse. She found the white cardboard box.

Ben said, “I could do a roast, but I’m not sure about the veggies. I can make spaghetti. Oh, there’s still some General Ho’s. Do you want—”

“Ben?”

He glanced back over his shoulder. “Yeah?”

“I’m pregnant.”