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Seeing my sister was awful, so the fact that I can stay somewhere else in the interim is a blessing.
Erin keeps trying to call me, too, wanting to discuss the money.
I have nothing to say to her.
It’s a moot point right now since I have no control over the money, and I have no idea why Ronnie left it to me.
That’s the part no one understands. Everybody wants me to tell them, but how can I say anything if I don’t even know?
I stand from my chair and turn to Heather. “I’ll meet you back at your place.”
She reaches out and touches my shoulder. “You’re not coming with me?”
“No.”
Her brows furrow. “Where are you going?”
“I have to meet someone.”
“You’re being shady.”
I inhale deeply.
“Come on. Spit it out,” she says.
“I have to meet Trent.”
“Seriously?”
“Yeah.”
“Is he making you?” she asks casually, but I can see how her face is clouded with unease. It’s her eyes that give her away. They’re sharp and assessing, dragging over every visible inch of me.
“No.”
“Are you sure?”
Now they narrow.
She doesn’t believe me.
“Yeah,” I promise, still feeling weirded out that he isn’t demanding anything of me. “He said he wanted to talk, so I’m going to let him.”
“Are you sure that’s safe? You said you don’t trust him . . . maybe you should trust your gut.”
She’s right. I don’t.
There is something off, and I can’t figure out if it’s him or something else. Between Trent and Erin, I feel unsteady all the time.
I’m going to trust my gut.
Stop the paranoia.
Stop the dramatics.
I keep that thought to myself. If I tell Heather I think Trent has had me followed and is tracking me, she’ll freak out.
She would certainly freak out if she knew he did check my phone regularly.
