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“I had 21.”
“So 22 people counting me?”
I nod.
She looks to Hannah. “What quantity are they packaged in?”
“They come in packs of six.”
“Perfect. Order 24, enough for everyone with a couple to spare.” She glances at me. “Hey, maybe if none arrive damaged, you can hang around, after all.”
“What an honor,” I say dryly.
“Yes, it is,” she says without a hint of irony. “I’m glad you understand.”
I roll my eyes to myself as she bombards Hannah with a list of what needs to be done on top of all her usual chores.
At least once Anae has finished handing out her orders, she leaves us alone to do her bidding.
I watch her exit the room and still wait a good ten seconds before speaking to Hannah. “All right, enough about the party. What do you need me to help with?”
“You don’t have to help me,” she insists. “I have a pretty good handle on my cleaning schedule, honest. I appreciate the gesture, but—”
I silence her with an outstretched hand. “You’re wasting your time and mine. I’m helping. Just tell me what needs to be done before I start guessing.”
Hannah sighs, then her gaze drifts reluctantly to the stairs. “Well… I guess I could use help getting all the draperies down from the windows. I need to clean them, but taking them down requires using a stepladder. Sometimes Anae will catch me on it and give it a good rattle because she thinks it’s funny, and I… do not think it’s funny.”
I stare at her. “And you wanted me to apologize for taunting her about Dare.”
Hannah rolls her eyes as she turns and leads the way upstairs. “I wanted you to apologize because I don’t want her to use you for target practice, not because she didn’t deserve it.”
“I can’t believe I’m helping her plan a party.”
“Hey, if she’s busy picking out a party dress, then she doesn’t have to torture me to bust her boredom.”
“Still. It’s bullshit. This is her house; she’s the one who should be pitching in and helping out around here.”
Hannah’s quiet for a moment longer than I anticipated, so I glance over at her.
She doesn’t say anything, but I can tell I’ve said something wrong.
I’ve known Hannah for enough years to know she won’t tell me what since she wouldn’t think I meant any harm, so I replay my words in my head and test them for insensitivity.
“I didn’t mean to say it was her house,” I say tentatively.
Hannah shrugs defensively, then tips her chin up. “Itisher house, isn’t it?” she murmurs, setting up the ladder and pushing down on it to make sure it’s steady. “You didn’t say anything that’s not true. It wassupposed to bemy house, that’s whatmymom wanted, but… she died, and he married a selfish cow, and now here we are.”
I grimace, grabbing the ladder to keep it steady as Hannah climbs up to retrieve the dusty drapes.
Hannah generally avoids talking about this. I think she knows her labor of love looking after this house is wasted effort, but since I brought it up by accident, I might as well ask. After all, the clock is ticking. Hannah’s 18thbirthday is fast approaching, and if she has given a single thought to what it might mean, she’s never given me any indication.
“Um, I know you probably don’t like thinking about this, but have you talked to Jackie about what’s going to happen in October?”
Hannah’s movements halt briefly. I watch her throat work, and then she gets back to gathering the dusty fabric without missing a beat. “No,” she says tersely.
“Don’t you think you should?” I ask, looking up at her. “I mean, legally, she only has to let you stay here until you’re 18, right?”
“Let me?” Hannah laughs shortly, but there’s no amusement. “I don’t think I have to worry about being evicted, Parker. I’m essentially slave labor. If she got someone to work any harder for any less than I do, they’d have to be purchased from human traffickers. Why bother committing felonies when I’m so low risk?”
