Chapter 17: Brogan's POV: Vera's Cell

Brogan's POV

They let me into the holding room at ten past seven, and they took my phone at the door.

Vera sat on a steel bench in the navy suit she had worn to the vote.

Someone had taken her pearls and her belt and the pins from her hair.

Her silver bob hung loose on one side, and I had never seen it do that.

"You came," she said.

"You asked for me by name."

"I asked for my son." Her voice was dry. "They tell me he can't be found."

"He's not here, Vera."

"Then you'll do."

She patted the bench beside her, as if we were in the Lake Forest sitting room.

I stayed on my feet.

"You have ten minutes," I said. "Your lawyer says you won't speak to him."

"My lawyer is a coward who keeps checking his watch."

"Then speak to me."

She looked up at me for a long moment.

"The driver is a fool who kept a voicemail," she said. "Dalton's name is on none of it. I want you to tell the detective that Dalton paid him."

I almost laughed.

"You want me to hand them your son."

"I want you to hand them a man who has already lost everything." She said it patiently. "Your brother is finished, Brogan. I am sixty-one years old."

"He's not my brother."

"Harlan thought so."

I felt it land, low and old, and I kept my face still.

"Harlan paid for my school," I said. "He taught me to drive. He sat in the third row at my graduation, and you sat at home."

Keep reading free with an account. Start Divorced, Now Watch Me Rise from Chapter 1, then sign up free to read the rest of this chapter.