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My mother touches the bridge of her nose with her fingers. “When will that idiot ever learn?”
“What happened? When Dad couldn’t pay?”
Annabeth’s face darkens. She looks like an entirely different person. Haunted, even. “Walton isn’t just a loan shark. He’s a thug. He’s got whole teams of people that he can send to collect. Sometimes forcefully.”
“Forcefully? You mean…”
“You were at school when it happened.” My mother’s eyes are red-rimmed and glossy. “Thomas was at work, and I was home alone. They showed up out of nowhere, demanding that Thomas pay up or they’d take payment in other ways.”
I swallowed, my throat unbearably dry. “Other ways… You mean…”
Annabeth nods slowly, rubbing her arms in a self-soothing manner. She can’t look me in the eye, but I don’t blame her. What she’s describing… sounds truly awful. “They didn’t hurt me, but they got really close. If it weren’t for Hunter showing up at just the right time, they might have…” She sobs into her hands. “Oh, Eden, I’m so sorry. I know you hate me for not sticking around, but after what happened…”
Guilt shreds my insides, leaves my lungs in tatters and my heart a twisted mess. I had no idea the kind of trauma Annabeth must have gone through. My parents did such a good job keeping the truth from me that I never once stopped to think that there was something bigger, more dangerous going on.
“That’s why you left?” I squeak.
“I was terrified, sweetie. I tried keeping it together for your sake, but I just couldn’t. I’d have these god-awful nightmares that they’d come bursting through our door again. It was paralyzing. Thomas and I would have such huge fights about it, too. Knowing that he willingly did business with Walton… I couldn’t bring myself to forgive him. What if you’d been home when they showed up?” she cried, swallowing before she continued. “Our marriage deteriorated quickly after that, and the only sensible option was divorce. I didn’t want to come to resent him and expose you to that at such a young age. I wanted better for you.”
I feel it all at once—unfiltered guilt, grief, rage, pity, longing. All this time, I’ve resented my mother and her distance. I feel equal parts foolish and selfish for not stopping to take the time to consider what battles she’s been fighting. I wouldn’t even know how to react had I been in her shoes.
“I’m so sorry,” I mumble, genuinely meaning it from the bottom of my heart. “I had no idea.”
Annabeth manages a teary-eyed smile. “I hope you can forgive me, Eden. I know it wasn’t an excuse to shut you out. I really didn’t mean to let things go on for so long, but my… recovery took much longer than I thought it would. I know it wasn’t an excuse to not reach out, but I felt so trapped afterward that…”
“The phone works both ways,” I tell her. “I could have reached out to you more, too.”
“Do you think we can start over? From this point on, can we spend more time together?”
I nod, a warmth blooming in my chest. It occurs to me then how exhausting it is to be angry all the time. Sometimes a fresh start is a welcome change. “That’d be nice.”
“Thank you, sweetie. How about we meet again next week for dinner? I mean, I know we see a lot of each other on set, but…”
“Dinner sounds love—”
I slap a hand over my mouth, holding back a sudden gag. My stomach roils, the smell of the next table’s food making me dry heave.
Annabeth gasps, a supportive hand on my shoulder. “Oh my God, are you alright? What’s wrong?”
I take a big sip of water, trying to wash away the weird taste on my tongue. “I’m fine, I’m fine.”
“You don’t look fine, sweetie. Maybe you should head home and—”
I gag again, this time leaping out of my seat to make a mad dash to the bathroom. I make it just in time to lose dinner into the toilet bowl. Annabeth is hot on my heels, pulling my hair away and rubbing my back.
“Do you think it’s food poisoning?” she asks.
I wave her off. “No, no, food poisoning doesn’t come on that quickly. I’m sure it’s nothing. Just a bug. Maybe I should just head home and take it easy.”
“I can drive you back, if you’d like.”
“No, it’s all good. I don’t want you to catch it if it’s a bug or something. That’d only put production back.”
Annabeth sighs. She knows what I’m saying is true. Hunter would likely be understanding, but I’ve seen all the balls he’s had to juggle. A setback like having his lead actress call out sick isn’t something I want to burden him with.
“Only if you’re sure,” she says. “I’ll pay for dinner. You worry about getting some rest.”
“Thanks, Mom.”
