Mom flinched, then sighed. “Don’t start with me. I’ve had a long night—”
“Youhad a long night? I came home and Dash was wide awake and scared to death. You just left him here? By himself? Why didn’t you call me?”
“I was trying not to bother you. Your first social event of the year, right? Didn’t you tell me you wanted to be with your new friends?”
“Yes, but it doesn’t mean you leave a seven-year-old by himself.”
“I didn’t think it was going to be that long,” Mom said. “The lady got a last-minute booking and needed a bit of extra cleanup. But the last guests used her white towels instead of the black ones she leftspecificallyfor makeup, so I had to do a lot of bleaching—”
“I don’t care. You fucking call me so I can come home and take care of theseven-year-old.”
Mom’s gaze flattened, her lips pursed. She was tired from working two jobs andgoddammit, I didn’t want to feel bad for her. But Ididfeel bad for her while being ready to explode at the same time.
Or maybe that’swhyI wanted to explode.
“I don’t appreciate your tone of voice, young lady,” she said. “I don’t appreciate being lectured, either, like you’re the adult around here.”
“Someone has to be.”
Quick as lightning, her stinging slap exploded over my cheek. It took everything I had not to slap her back.
“I think you forget who you are sometimes, Harper.”
“No,” I said, teeth clenched, my cheek on fire. “I think you do. You’re the mother. You’re supposed to be taking care of him.”
“Iamtrying to take care of him,” she said, sinking onto the couch. “And this household.Andmake enough money so we can stay in it. I wastryingto do you a favor tonight.”
“Well, don’t,” I said. “He could’ve hurt himself. He could’ve started a fire. Did you think of that?”
Jack Wallace’s burnt hand came to mind, and I thought I was going to puke. Mom’s face fell, as a similar image must’ve come to her mind.
“He’s a good kid,” she said weakly. “He’s smart. He wouldn’t—”
“He’sseven, Mom. If the neighbors found out and called the cops or CPS, they’d take him away. Again.”
God, just the thought made me cold all over. I’d die first.
Her shoulders slumped. “You’re right. No, you’re right. I’m sorry, baby. I’m sorry. And I shouldn’t have hit you. Come here.”
I remained standing, arms crossed.
Irritation returned to her voice. “Harper, I’ve had a long day. I’m tired. He’s fine. The house is still standing. Can we just forget this whole thing happened and start fresh? Please?”
Start fresh.Her favorite motto every time something like this happened. A hundred do-overs for her, while each one piled up in theback of my mind until I felt like I was carrying a thousand pounds on my back.
I started for the stairs. “I’m going to bed.”
“How was your night?” she called after. “Was the bonfire fun, at least?”
“Oh, sure,” I muttered. “Time of my life.”
I sat at my desk, pulled out my ancient laptop, and started brainstorming for the Novus Prize for Scientific Innovation. All that mattered now was winning that contest, getting the money for some kind of safety net, and getting a leg up at the universities. Everything else came second.
Everything.
Chapter 8Orion
I didn’t dump a drunk Elowen Blake onto her front lawn, but I wastempted. By the time I arrived at her huge oceanfront house, I judged she’d sobered up enough to make the journey from my car to her front door on her own. She’d complained lucidly the entire drive because I wouldn’t park at Brenton Park Point, a popular hookup spot.
