Chapter 9: The Doorstep

Dylan was sitting on my grandmother's front steps when Sam's truck pulled up that night.

He had a leather folder on his knees, and the porch light made him look older.

I stayed in the truck for a moment.

"I can tell him to leave," Sam said.

"No." I opened the door. "I want to hear it."

Sam got out too, and came around the front of the truck, and stood at the bottom of the steps with his arms folded.

Dylan looked at him and then at me.

"I brought the statements," he said. "Every one. I pulled them from the bank this afternoon."

He held out the folder.

I didn't take it.

"Read them to me," I said.

He opened it with unsteady hands.

"April fifth, Rhodes Wellness Pharmacy Services, eleven hundred dollars."

He turned a page.

"May fifth, the same. June, July, August, September."

His voice cracked on the last one.

"It's all there. I never looked. The bills went to my assistant and she paid them."

"You didn't wonder why my medicine cost eleven hundred dollars a month?"

"Lydia said it was a compounded formula. Custom for your lungs. I thought..."

"You thought it was Lydia's expertise."

"I thought I was taking care of you."

I sat down on the third step, three steps below him, where I could see his face.

"You told Marco I was faking," I said.

"Nina..."

"You told him on the phone, with my lips going blue. Did she do that to you?"

He stared at the folder.

"No."

"Did she hold the canister?"

"No."

"Did she make you say Be good?"

"No." His eyes were wet. "I did that. Every word."

Keep reading free with an account. Start He Bet My Life and Lost Me Instead from Chapter 1, then sign up free to read the rest of this chapter.