Behind Every Lie(55)

But at that moment I knew.

I wouldn’t be getting a job.



* * *



I could not survive on my own with a small child.

I tried to think what Rose would do, and suddenly the solution seemed so obvious. I bought red lipstick and mascara, a low-cut dress from the charity shop, a cheap bottle of red wine.

That evening I stared at myself in the bedroom mirror. I looked rather good, if I did say so myself. It was a shame I had not found high heels that fit—the girl in the hotel had been correct, I didn’t even own a pair. But it could not be helped. I was as sexy and unlike myself as I could possibly muster.

When I knew Mike would be home from work, I went to Mrs. Mitchell’s apartment next door and rang her doorbell. She opened the door, peering at me through thick glasses that enlarged her rheumy blue eyes.

“Oh, hello, Kat! Would you like to come in?” She pulled the door open, the sound of her telly wafting out to me.

“Thank you, but no. I’ve left Eva inside. I’m meant to have a date, and my babysitter didn’t arrive. I was just wondering, could you watch Eva for a bit? Two hours, tops. I know it’s last-minute, I’m truly sorry. I feel dreadful.”

She grinned, her eyes lighting up. “A date, huh?”

“Yes.”

“Well, sure, honey. I don’t mind at all. I was a single mom myself. I know how hard it is. You go enjoy yourself.”

“Brilliant! Thank you so much!”

She followed me back to my apartment.

“Eva, darling, Mrs. Mitchell is going to watch you for a bit this evening.”

For a moment Eva looked frightened, like she would protest, but Mrs. Mitchell opened her arms, her smile wide and friendly.

“Come here, honey,” she said. “We can watch some cartoons together. Would you like that?”

Eva nodded and climbed onto Mrs. Mitchell’s lap. She popped her thumb in her mouth, her gaze on the telly. I hesitated. I knew I should hug her good-bye. That’s what a good mum would do. But I could not seem to get my body to do so. She wasn’t the little girl I wanted to hold.

I shut the door gently and walked away. There were more pressing matters at hand right now, like how we were going to survive. I continued down the corridor to Mike’s apartment, wiping my damp hands on my dress.

This had to work.

Mike’s eyes widened when he opened the door, sweeping from my face to my low-cut dress. I thrust the wine at him. “I brought some wine.”

“Uhhmmm …” His cheeks flushed, his Adam’s apple bobbing up and down. “Come in.”

Mike’s apartment had the same layout as ours, filled with much the same things: cheap, saggy furniture; crooked, generic photos on the walls; a tattered brown rug in the entryway. His sink was overflowing with unwashed dishes. The air smelled of grease and TV dinners.

I tried to ignore the mess and faced him. “I have a daughter.”

Mike smiled, long and slow, and reached for my hand. I hesitated for the barest of moments, fear churning in my belly. I had been burned before, and I feared Mike treating me as Seb had. The fists I could almost endure, but not being controlled and oppressed. I’d had a taste of freedom from a man’s tyranny these last months and I’d rather grown to like it.

And yet I knew somehow that Mike was not like that. He was a good man, a kind man, I was certain.

And so I let him take my hand and pull me against his chest.

“That’s okay,” he said. “I have a lot of knock-knock jokes.”



* * *



We had sex that night and nearly every night afterward when Eva was in bed, until I awoke one morning and knew I was pregnant. Was it wrong to trick Mike when I did not love him? Perhaps. But it was the only way. Rose was dead; David could not protect Eva. Her safety, our safety was in my hands. Sexual attraction was simply the release of pheromones in the brain. Androstenone, androstadienone, and androstenol in the right quantity could make you attracted to anybody. It was just biology, after all.

I could forge a good life out of this situation.

Mike and I married in a simple ceremony at City Hall with Mrs. Mitchell as our witness, and he adopted Eva soon after. When he told me he was being transferred to Seattle for a management position at a car dealership there, I was utterly thrilled. My plan couldn’t have gone any better.

In Seattle, with new names, we would finally be safe from Seb.





twenty-nine

eva




DAD DROVE ME to Mom’s house to get Melissa’s car. I put the SIM card back in my phone and turned it on. It immediately sprang to life, vibrating and pinging with app notifications and alerts, missed calls, texts, e-mails.

Dad glanced at me and smiled. “Popular much?”

“I turned my phone off for a few days,” I explained.

I scrolled through the notifications. More condolences on Instagram, a few e-mails from news reporters requesting interviews, a link from Holly to an obituary for my mom, missed calls from Liam, Andrew, and Detective Jackson. I scrolled through texts from Melissa and a few other friends, stopping when I came to a blocked number.

I stared at the text message. It had been sent two days ago.

It took a long time for her to die after her throat was slit. Go home or you’ll die the same way.