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“Two? But why would he do—” She stops speaking as the obvious answer sinks in. She got conned by her own husband. “Phil would never do that. Never. Your father wasn’t greedy. He didn’t even want to sell the stone. He just wanted to keep it as insurance, in case we needed money. Our retirement fund, that’s what he called it.”
I shrug. “Maybe he was pissed off about your affair. Maybe he didn’t think you deserved nice things.”
She laughs again, this time without any malice. For a moment she seems like herself. “You ever hear of a sweetheart scheme, Cassel? You think your father didn’t know?”
Sweetheart schemes have been Mom’s bread and butter since Dad died. Find a rich guy. Curse him so he falls in love with her. Get his cash. She even went to jail for one of her less successful cons, although the conviction was overturned on appeal. But I never thought she’d done anything like that when Dad was alive.
I stare at her, my mouth parted. “So Dad knew about you and Zacharov?”
She snorts. “You really are such a prude, Cassel. Of course he did. And we got the stone, didn’t we?”
“Okay,” I say, trying to push away all thoughts of what she’s done. “So, then, what would he do with it?”
“I don’t know.” Her gaze slides away from me as she contemplates the grooves of the plaster wall. “I guess a man is entitled to a few secrets.”
I give her a long look.
“Just not very many,” she says, and smiles. “Now come and give your mother a kiss.”
* * *
Lila’s in the hallway when I leave. She’s leaning against the wall, near a modernist painting that’s probably worth more than my mother’s house and everything in it. Lila’s arms are folded against her chest.
I take out my phone and make a show of typing in the doctor’s information from the card he gave me. It was just a number with no name attached, so I call him Dr. Doctor.
“I should have told you,” she says finally.
“Yes, you should have told me,” I say. “But my mother can be very convincing. And she made you promise.”
“Some promises aren’t worth keeping.” Her voice drops low. “I guess it was stupid to think that I could just drop out and be gone from your life. We’re all tangled up together, aren’t we?”
“You’re not sentenced to me,” I say stiffly. “This thing with my mother will be resolved, you’ll talk to Daneca, and then…” I make a vague gesture with my hand.
Then I’ll be out of her life, more or less.
She laughs abruptly. “That’s how it must have felt—me following you everywhere, begging for attention, obsessing over you—like you were sentenced to me. I even screwed up that on-again, off-again thing you had with Audrey, didn’t I?”
“I think I screwed that one up all on my own.”
Lila frowns. I can tell she doesn’t believe me. “So why, Cassel? Why tell me that you loved me, then have Daneca work me so I couldn’t feel anything for you, then tell me you love me all over again? Why come here and kiss me up against a wall? Do you just like messing with my head?”
“I— No!” I start to say more, to give her some explanation, but she keeps on going.
“You used to be my best friend in the world, and then, suddenly, you’re the reason I’m a caged animal and you’re acting like you don’t even care. I know they took your memories, but I didn’t know it then. I hated you. I wanted you dead. Then you were the one who freed me from my prison, and before I could come to terms with any of that, I was forced to be desperately in love with you. And now, when I see you, I feel everything, all those things, all at once. I can’t afford to feel like that. Maybe you were right. Maybe I would be better off if I couldn’t feel anything at all.”
I don’t know what to say. “I’m sorry,” is all I manage.
“No, don’t be. I don’t mean it,” Lila whispers. “I wish I wished that, but I don’t. I’m just kind of a mess right now.”
“You’re not,” I say.
She smiles. “Don’t con me.”
I want to reach for her, but her crossed arms keep me from it. I walk toward the stairs instead. At the top I look back at her. “No matter what happens, no matter what else I feel, no matter what else you believe, I hope you believe that I’ll always be your friend.”
One side of her mouth lifts. “I want to.”
As I descend, I see Zacharov standing near the mantel talking to a boy. I recognize his braids, pulled back from his head like horns, and the flash of gold teeth. He looks up at me with dark unfathomable eyes and raises a perfectly manicured eyebrow.
