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“What she needed was a loving family. A mother who supported her, not one who sold her! And for what? What did you use the money on, huh?” He banged his fist on the table again. “What did you use the money on?”
“To pay the bills.”
“To pay for your fucking drugs.”
Silence fell. Max took a moment to breathe.
“I need you,” he began in a level voice, “to tell me everything you remember about the people who took her.”
“I don’t know anything. The deal was done in secret—I didn’t even know their names.”
“There must be something. If you’ve felt even the smallest amount of regret for what you’ve done, then you will tell me.”
Max waited, staring down his mother as she looked at the floor and picked at her bloody hangnails. Dallas reached under the table and gave his arm a comforting squeeze.
Finally, Pam said, strands of greasy hair fluttering in her face, “There’s an envelope in the drawer behind you. Pass it to me.”
Max got up, shoved his chair aside, and threw open the drawer with a bang. He sifted through layers of junk until he found a white envelope. “The seal is broken,” he said.
“Tim opened it; he thought it was money.” Of course he did. She beckoned with a hand.
He passed it to her. She ripped it open, shaking its contents into her palm.
A business card was the only thing inside.
“This is all I have—all they gave me.” She slid it across the table. Max grabbed it, not bothering to sit down again. He was nearly done here.
There was no lettering on the business card, no contact information. There was only a symbol. A phoenix head with three overlapping circles behind it.
“This is it?” Max prompted.
She nodded. “That’s it.”
“Let’s go, Dal.”
Dallas stood immediately.
Pamela shut her eyes.
As they left, Max turned, one last time, to look at his mother. “How long did the money last?”
Pam opened her eyes but kept her focus on the table. Max watched as a single tear splashed on the wood.
He felt no sympathy.
“Don’t make me ask you again,” he warned.
Her answer was a ragged whisper. “Three months.”
He shook his head. “You’re a disgrace.”
The rain was beginning to let up when Max joined Dallas in the SUV. He was still parked out front of his mom’s house; he’d needed to have a smoke before driving again, his rage threatening a full-blown Surge for the first time in years.
He shut his door and placed the last of his cigar in the center console, slapping the lid shut.
“You okay?” Dallas asked.
“As okay as I can be.” He stared out at the ocean, his ragged breathing gradually smoothing out. “I bet that makes you feel better about your parents.” He tried to laugh to lighten the mood, but it sounded forced.
