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“How many have you had?”
“Three in the last week, counting the one in the car.”
Helen cursed and dug into her purse, pulling out a card. “If I give you this, will you go see her?”
“Her?”
“You know what I’m talking about. I saw what La Roux did to you. Now, a month later, you’ve tranqed your ex-lover because he touched his brother’s throat. Did you trust your ex before all this?”
“Yes, but I was stupid. I—”
“Stupid is not a word I would ever use to describe you. Did you trust your ex when you were together?”
“Yes.”
“Do you think that what happened with La Roux might be coloring your thoughts now?” When Lila didn’t answer, Helen forged ahead. “You need to talk to someone about what happened last month. I should have given this to you back then.”
“I’m not crazy.”
“Crazy people don’t go to therapists. Crazy people insist that they’re fine because they’ve completely lost touch with reality. You need help. Someone tried to kill you. You might be pregnant with his child, your ex-lover has fucked off with another woman, and I can see you do not like that one bit. You were nearly condemned to death last week, and you’ve decided to leave your highborn family to get mixed up with the oracles, it seems. I’m not going to even ask what that’s about. Just your mother’s antics would be enough to push you over the edge. She makes everyone crazy.”
“I’m fine. I’m handling it.”
“Handling it with a tranq? There’s a point when too much is too much, Lila. You’ve hit that point. You wouldn’t be having panic attacks if you hadn’t. You wouldn’t see danger where none existed.”
Lila bit her lip.
“Just take the damn card and tell me you’ll contact her.”
“Okay. When I have some credits,” Lila promised, putting the card in her pocket.
Her palm vibrated. I’m staying at the oracle’s compound tonight. Contact me if you need a ride. I’ll pick you up anywhere, anytime.
Helen watched Lila put her palm away and handed her a pool cue.
“I don’t even know how to play,” Lila said.
“Good. I like winning. It reminds me of med school.”
Helen crouched over the table, shifting the cue between her fingers. She quickly showed Lila how to break. But instead of moving on, Lila stopped her at lesson one. She liked the sounds the balls made as they cracked and clacked together. Her billiards education faltered.
The bouncers eyed them warily.
“I’m not going to pretend I’ve been in your position,” Helen said, still fiddling with the umbrella in her first drink. “But I’ve seen many women over the years trying to figure things out. Not liking the father, being afraid of him, being abused by him, or not having a choice in becoming pregnant in the first place. Some women become unsure when their circumstances change, when they don’t have the money to raise a child alone, when they don’t want the health complications that come along with pregnancy and childbirth. It’s the ones who make an impulsive decision who tend to regret it, as do the ones who base their choice on other people’s opinions. Have the baby or don’t have it, but take the father out of the decision. This should be about you and the child. Not anyone else.”
“What if it’s his?”
“You tell me.”
Lila broke again, eleven balls shooting against one another, like an angry mob. “Maybe he didn’t do what I thought he did tonight, but he’s not ready for this.”
“Few people are. Boys turn into men.”
Lila repositioned the balls and lifted the rack.
“If it’s his and you chose to have it, will you tell him?”
Lila broke again. It had become strangely therapeutic, like punching a heavy bag, except it wasn’t so tiring.
