Chapter 16: Hattie's Question

I slept on Maureen's couch from Sunday on, under a crocheted blanket that smelled like onions.

Crispin worked every night of it.

I knew because I heard the truck door at seven each morning, and then his feet on the stairs, going up past us without stopping.

Maureen never mentioned it.

She just put out two plates, and on Wednesday she took one of them back to the stove and said, "Forget it, he's not coming."

At nine that night my phone rang with a video call.

The name on the screen was Mom's iPad.

I almost didn't answer, and then I did.

Hattie's face filled the screen, lit from below, her pigtails sticking out on either side.

She was whispering.

"Are you alone?"

"I'm on Maureen's couch. Where are you?"

"In the bathroom. I locked it. Don't tell."

"Hattie, it's a school night."

"Mom and Dad are yelling on the phone. They've been yelling since dinner, and I can hear it through the wall."

"What are they yelling about?"

"Money. Mom says hers was first, and Dad says it doesn't matter who was first, and Mom says it matters, and Dad says that's why you left."

She took a breath.

"Lacey. Did they pay for you?"

My stomach went down.

"Who told you that?"

"Nobody told me. I heard it. I'm not a baby, I'm seven."

"Hattie."

"Were you paid for?"

I held the phone closer.

I could have said it was a misunderstanding, or grown-up business, or any of the things my mother said.

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