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But no, the movement from my father is out of simple agitation. He’s going nowhere. I’m staring at his hands now. Stripped of his rings. Dry and wrinkled. Even the ink from his tattoos looks faded.
Without thinking, my own hand flies up to cover my heart, which pounds under the snake tattoo hidden beneath my shirt. When Lita saw it for the first time she gasped. And I wished I could make it disappear.
My father leans forward, his jaw set. “The poison will get me before then.”
“Poison?” Lita looks to me in horror.
“Dad.” I force my voice to sound gentle and patient. “Are you feeling sick? There are doctors here.”
He shakes his head with impatience. “They keep telling me to eat. I’m not doing that. They stick needles in my arm when I won’t eat.”
“Who’s they?”
He shrugs.
I look at the guard, who now listens with a raised eyebrow. He moves one thick finger in a circle at his temple. The universal gesture for crazy.
I throw him a glare and try to reassure my father. “I’ll speak to your lawyer, okay? If you’re not getting proper medical care then we’ll fix that.”
He grins. A dreadful laugh fizzes from his throat.
I have the impression I’m staring into the eyes of a man who is no longer completely sane.
Aric Marchenko quits laughing and gazes at us. “I have to tell you something.”
Lita struggles not to cry. I know that without looking at her and I reach for her hand under the table.
“We’re listening,” I tell my father.
Though he lowers his volume to a whisper, I can hear every word he says.
“Marino’s breathing on me, girls. Now you both take care of my treasure. You know where to find it.”
Goosebumps sprout on my skin. “Dad, what are you talking about?”
My father rises from his chair. “I am glad I got to see my twins once more. So thank you for that. But time’s up.”
The guard looks puzzled because time actually isn’t up, but he opens the door and pulls my father away like a man leading a dog.
Lita shivers beside me. My protective instincts kick in. I need to get her out of here.
We exit as swiftly as possible, not saying a word as we escape the labyrinthine corridors of the prison. The air has a stale taste and I avoid taking a deep breath until we’re free of the building.
Why wasn’t I told that my father’s health and mental state had declined so much?
The minute we’re back inside my car I place a call to that garbage bin of a lawyer. Voicemail answers. The message I spit out is harsh, peppered with profanity. I don’t know if I have the authority to fire him but I’m firing him just the same. Maybe Conner can call Gage and ask for lawyer recommendations.
Right now I just need to get my sister away from this horrid place.
Lita’s face is pinched with confusion. “What did he mean, Haven? What was he talking about?”
I click my seatbelt, then check to make sure hers is fastened as well. “Don’t worry. We’ll figure it out.”
The sound of my confidence doesn’t match my restless dread.
It might be paranoia, this sense that invisible walls are closing in.
Or the cost of my family’s sins might be about to catch up to us all.
