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Of course she wouldn’t answer a strange number calling at… I peeked up at the ops centre’s big clock. Performed some mental maths. It was ten AM for us, which made it two in the morning for her.
Even if she was awake, I had no reason to expect her to want to talk to me.
My single line of attack had failed.
There was nothing for me to do. Nothing but sit here and wait. Panic over someone getting hurt.
Frustrated, I dropped my chin to my chest, wanting to damage something.
For several days, I’d used up my energy on Jackson’s body. I hadn’t missed work or anything else, because I’d got so wrapped up in him. Now, I was gunning to do something.
And my single thing had failed.
I exhaled and turned to Daisy.
My phone rang.
I jerked back to it. My mother’s number was onscreen.
My pulse pounded, and I swiped to answer. “Hello…” I swallowed bile. “Mom.”
Empty space filled the line. Then a little reply came. “Ariel?”
That voice… I’d forgotten the sweet baby-doll tone my mother deployed. She hadn’t always used it. Normally only when talking to my father. It set my teeth on edge.
“Yes, it’s me. Willow gave me your number. Is it safe for you to talk?”
“It’s safe. I’m alone in the house. Well, guarded, but no one’s listening.” There was another pause. “What was it you needed?”
I dropped my head back, stunned into silence.
What did I need? Years of explanation? Of knowing she gave a damn?
I forced myself to calm. “I’ll be brief. I spoke to Dad recently, and he made an offhand comment that a problem I was having with a boy was a subject for my mother, not my father. Considering I haven’t seen you in years, have you any idea why he’d say that?”
My mother made an off sound. “Don’t mention him to me. Your father hated me.”
I bit my tongue, leaving her to explain.
“He hates all women,” she added. “He barely respects the men he works with, and that’s only through fear. Even that doesn’t stop him from his deals. You know he never hid his ambitions.”
I squinted, a little bit lost.
She hiccupped, and I wondered if she’d been drinking.
“I suppose you want to know why I left?”
I wanted to bring sarcasm but retained control. “I’ve wondered.”
“I had to leave. Or he’d have killed me,” she said in a rush, her doll-voice higher still. “I wasn’t young or beautiful as I had been. After birthing his three kids, I didn’t have the tight body and I wasn’t willing to get surgery. Not for him. I met another man and fell in love.”
“You married a murderer,” I let slip.
She tutted. “Don’t be naïve. They’re all the same. That’s just the way of men. Ted would never hurt me. In comparison with your father, he worships the ground I walk on, and he’s the only man your father fears, the only person who could protect me.”
Naïve? My blood boiled. “Meanwhile, you left me with Dad. The man who hates women and who scared you. Why didn’t you take me?”
At last, I’d asked the question that had plagued me.
