The Girls I've Been(83)
“When do you want to go?” he asks, and I follow the change of subject, because I’m trying to learn the grace he and Iris have.
“Next time Lee’s out of town on a job,” I say. “It’ll be short notice. I’ll need you to cover for me.”
“You’ll have to be fast so she won’t catch you.”
“I’ll be in and out.”
His phone buzzes in his pocket, and he pulls it out.
“Your mom again?” I ask, trying not to feel annoyed.
He shakes his head. “Amanda.”
The silly grin on my face is met by a shy one on his.
“She texted me a few days after the bank, when Terry went around blabbing about how we’d survived near-death to everyone we know.”
“I’m surprised it took that long. Terry blabbing, not Amanda texting. Have you two been talking? Was she worried about you? What did she say? Can I see?”
He holds his phone to his chest. “No!”
I make a face. “I bet you’ll let Iris see,” I mutter.
“She gives better dating advice than you.”
“I’m the one who dated you!”
He laughs, and I barely resist kicking him again.
The sun is high in the sky. We laugh, and I breathe in the moment like it’ll be stolen soon, knowing that tomorrow, I’ll be doing the stealing.
— 66 —
August 19 (11 days free)
2 safe-deposit keys, 1 fake birth certificate
I’ve waited until it’s not a crime scene anymore and the smoke has cleared and the construction workers have moved in. The bank’s still closed, of course, but the two times I drive past it doing recon, Olivia-the-teller’s car is parked in the lot. So I make my move.
“Bank’s not open,” the construction worker up front tells me. But Olivia looks up from the desk where she’s sitting and sees me. She’s got her arm in a sling; he’d cut her, back in the bank. That’s what the screaming across the hall had been. But it looks like she’s healing up.
“It’s okay,” she tells him. “You’re Nora, right? That’s your name?”
I nod. “I guess we didn’t get formally introduced last time. How are you doing? Are you okay?”
“Just a little sore,” she says, her eyes tracking over the bruises and swelling that have mostly faded from my face. “What about you?”
It’s kind of weird being here with her, because last time, we were both the same amount of scared, but not the same amount of crumbling. And now we’re back here, she’s the adult again, and I’m supposed to be the kid. But I’m not really a kid, and she may be an adult, but she’s also the mark.
“I’m okay. I’m really sorry to bother you. I know the branch is closed. But my sister keeps the important papers in our safe-deposit box ever since the forest fire a few years back.” I pull out the keys. “I have a scholarship deadline in two days, and I need my birth certificate for the application.”
“Oh dear.” Olivia frowns. “I really am not supposed let anyone down there.”
“It’s fine,” I say. “I totally understand. The scholarship was a long shot, anyway. And there’s always student loans.”
It’s the right knife twist; I know it because I looked into her enough to know she took out a Parent PLUS loan for each of her kids’ college.
“As long as you have the keys,” she says slowly, “I suppose it can’t hurt.”
“Really?” I smile in genuine relief. “You’d totally be saving me. My sister will be upset because I kind of put off the application until the last minute. I had three months. I should’ve gotten my birth certificate earlier.”
She smiles indulgently at me, all motherly and fond. “I had to make a spreadsheet for my girls to keep them on track with applications. It’s a busy time.”
“That’s a good idea,” I say as she begins to lead me through the back. We’re both silent as we pass the carpet that’s cut away. I guess they couldn’t get the blood out.
“Have you talked to Casey?” I ask.
“I spoke to her mom,” Olivia says. “You three looked out for her. I can’t tell you . . .” She trails off. “You are very good kids,” she finally says, her voice tight with emotion.
I place my hand on her shoulder, and it’s not a con when I say, “It’s brave of you to stay here.”
She lets out a shaky laugh. “Oh, honey, I don’t have a choice. I’ve got mouths to feed and a mortgage to pay.” She clears her throat as she unlocks the steel-barred door that leads into the safe-deposit box vault. “Just call for me when you’re done, okay?”
“Will do.”
I step inside and head farther into the vault, waiting for her footsteps to fade. And then I move: not toward the box where Lee keeps Bailout Plan 3 (of 12). No, I go to box 49 and insert the key I found in Frayn’s office. The flap opens, exposing the box, and I try to slide it out.
I don’t know what I expected, but when I can’t even pull it out because it’s so heavy, the weight tells me what it has to be. I knew it was going to be valuable; I thought maybe cash. Some old coins. Stock options or art. A bunch of jewelry you could yank diamonds out of. Something like that.