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“It’s from him, not me,” I said, as Terra peered at it, and her face went white as a sheet.
“I won’t cash it—”
“Kit…” Terra whispered. “You should…” Her eyes darted toward me. “You should think about it.”
“I don’t want the money,” Kit said again. “I want him back. You can tell him that.”
“Kit baby,” Terra whispered. “You’re in pain every day.”
Kit’s lip trembled. “I don’t care. I w-won’t take it.”
“Don’t take it,” I said. “And I’ll have to come back with a bag of cash.”
“Shewilltake it.”
“Mom—”
“No. You’ll take it and you’ll get the surgery, honey. You’re on your feet every day at that damned restaurant.”—Terra turned to me sternly—“It’s her leg that was hurt. But sherefusedto stop working after the injury, even when we can get by without—”
“We can’t.”
“Well, it’s a non issue. You’ll get the surgery, and your leg will be better—” Terra’s voice shook a little “—And you can work yourself to the bone then, alright?”
Kit’s jaw was clenched as she glared between us, and I thought the glittering tears in her eyes might be from fury, but she didn’t argue when Terra pushed the check toward her.
“Just… you tell him to comehome.” Her voice broke with that last word.
I swallowed. “I’ll do that.”
Alone and back in Drake’s minivan, I felt strangely…something.
Off.
Wrong in a way I couldn’t put my finger on. I pulled my phone out to text Gambit, trying to ignore it.
Me: Kit’s mad at you. She says she'd rather have you back.
Me: Why the fuck don’t you want to see them?
Gambit: You went to the house????
Me: I dropped it off. Your mom fed me dinner.
Gambit: For fucks sake.
Gambit: Did you tell them where I was?
Me: No. But I think you should.
My breathing was heavy as I typed it out, and I couldn’t stop staring at my phone until his reply came in.
Gambit: I can’t.
I was already furiously tapping out my response when he replied again.
Gambit: It’s too dangerous.
I paused, staring at that, unsure of what it meant.
