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“We’ve all driven at least twelve hours straight through the night,” she said. “You’ve
inconvenienced quite a few people with this little stunt. Y’all will find a way to fix these two little things because otherwise you’ll be meeting with our lawyer, and shit won’t be as pretty and easily
fixed as what I’m offering you right now.”
The detective didn’t have a thing to say to that.
But a few hours later we were called and informed that we had the house for not one week, but
two if we wanted it. There was also a repairman that came to the house to fix the door within an hour.
Giving a few fucked up souls time to heal.
Chapter 21
I suffer from that disorder where I speak the truth and piss everyone off.
-Luca to Frankie
Luca
I stared at the phone in my hand, wondering what to do next.
Apparently, my parents had decided to pay for my phone plan for the last two years, keeping it up
to date just in case.
A just in case that turned out to be needed seeing as I was now home.
The phone that was in my hand was actually the phone that had been mine in a previous life.
Or, at least, all of the shit on it.
Upon hearing that I was ‘alive,’ my mother had gone to make sure that I’d have everything I
needed.
Meaning, she went to the phone store, bought a new phone, and had all of my stuff transferred
over from my last update—over two years ago.
I also had a wallet—apparently again the kind that I liked—with an ID in it she’d somehow been
able to get without me being with her. An insurance card for my truck that they’d never dropped the insurance on either. And a new bank card that accessed my bank account.
My joint bank account with Frankie was considerably less healthy than Malachi’s, yet still way
more than I might ever need any time soon.
I was also staring at the keys to my parents’ house.
Ones that I wouldn’t be using.
“What are you thinking?” Frankie asked softly.
“I don’t know my passcode,” he said.
She quickly took the phone from me, making sure I could see it, then typed in the passcode.
