A Book of Spirits and Thieves (Spirits and Thieves #1)(26)

“No. Your mother is the one who made me choose. And I know you’ll never fully understand why I had to make the choice I did, but maybe you will someday. I don’t expect your forgiveness. I would be too embarrassed to even ask for it.”

“Wait.” Crys’s brain began to swim. “You’re telling me that Mom made you choose.”

His lips thinned. “I could never make her understand how important that organization is to me. It’s about life or death, Crissy. I know that sounds far-fetched, but it’s true. The good I’m doing, the good I’m a part of—”

“What? Are you saving the world or something?” she said, trying to find a joke somewhere in all this and move away from how blindsided she felt to learn that her mother had been the one who’d issued the ultimatum that had caused her father to leave them.

“It would sound crazy to an outsider, but . . . yes. In a very large way I believe I am.”

She stared at him. “You’re serious, aren’t you?”

“You’re old enough for me to try to explain it to you, but you won’t truly understand unless you’re a part of it.” He absently stirred his coffee. “How are you doing in school, anyway? You’re graduating in June, aren’t you?”

“And you’re trying to change the subject.”

“Temporarily. Indulge me by answering my questions, and I might answer yours in return.”

She exhaled slowly, reminding herself that she had to stay calm and not push him too hard. Otherwise this meeting might end much sooner than she wanted it to. “How am I doing in school? I’ve been going to as few classes as possible ever since Amanda and Sara moved away, and I’ve found myself with few friends and no interest in dealing with teachers,” she admitted. “Actually, I’m thinking about officially dropping out to pursue photography full time. I don’t need a diploma for that, do I?”

The look of shock on his face almost made her grin. “Please tell me you’re lying.”

“I don’t really like lies. I prefer to tell the truth whenever possible. It’s much easier to keep track of.”

He frowned at her. “Crissy, you need to focus on school. It’s important.”

“I disagree. What are you going to do? Call Mom to have a friendly discussion about my future?”

He sighed and pushed his sandwich away. “Maybe I should.”

“Aunt Jackie didn’t graduate.”

“Jackie is rude and reckless, and has never taken any real responsibility for her poor decisions.”

Crys shrugged. “I think she’s awesome.”

“Most likely because you obviously don’t know everything about her.”

His acidic tone made her want to argue on behalf of her aunt, but Crys fought the urge. She didn’t have time to get distracted. “You should be proud, though,” she said. “I’m still using your camera. I’m really good, too. I’ve even placed in the finals in a couple of contests.” She pulled the Pentax out of her bag to show him.

He reached over and took it from her, turning it over in his hands. “Did you ever get a flash for it?”

“No reason to. Light and shadow—that’s all I need. Besides, flashes are expensive.” Time to turn this conversation back around. She summoned up her courage and reached across the table to grab his hand. He looked down guardedly. “Listen to me, Dad. You told me once that you wanted to take me with you. Was this what you were talking about? Leaving Mom to be a part of this secret society of yours?”

“I didn’t know what I was saying back then. I was confused.”

“I hated you for a long time for what you did. I still do.” The truth of the words left a sour taste in her mouth. “You left and you didn’t even try to contact me . . . not even once! I could have kept it a secret. I wouldn’t have told Mom if you didn’t want me to.”

“I’ve tried my best to respect her wishes.”

“Well, Mom and me . . .” She bit her bottom lip. “We don’t get along that well. I know she thinks Becca’s the perfect one, and she’s probably right about that.”

It hurt Crys to say that because she believed this. It seemed as if her mother raved over every A-plus essay Becca brought home, over every accomplishment. Becca had been the one to figure out the new computer system to organize the shop and its accounting. The two talked about the books they’d read for hours on end while Crys tried to watch TV.

Practically the only time her mother ever spoke to Crys directly these days was to comment on something she’d done wrong.

“That’s not true,” her father said, shaking his head. “She loves both of you girls equally. Some of her rules might seem harsh, but they’re because she loves you.”

“Whatever. She expects too much from me. I know I’ll never make her proud. I would have said yes, Dad. I would have gone with you. I would have joined this society that’s making such a big difference in the world.”

His jaw tensed up as he studied her, a frown creasing his brow. “You have to be sixteen to be invited in. You were only fifteen at the time.”

“Well, I’m seventeen now and . . .” She took a deep breath. “And I want in. I want to be a part of your life again, Dad.”