“You certainly didn’t correct me. And those texts. Any man would believe what I believed.”

“Haven’t you ever just had a really easy, fun friendship? Someone you don’t have to be all intense Judge-like with?” That last part she says with a mock-serious tone.

I don’t know why I’m taken aback by this. Almost confused. My friendships are serious. They always have been. I’ve never had a relationship with anyone like what I have seen between Mercedes and her friends.

“Oh, my God, you haven’t. That’s actually kind of sad, Judge,” she says without a note of mockery.

Before I can reply, my phone vibrates. “I need to take this.” I get up, grateful for the interruption.

I unlock the phone and read the text. One sister. Lana Douglas. Whereabouts unknown.

Fuck.

“What is it?”

“Nothing. Are you hungry?”

“You keep so many secrets.”

“Says the woman with a second life. Hungry?”

“You’re going to tell me what the hell is going on.”

“Nothing’s going on. Come on,” I draw the blanket away and hold out my hand. “Get dressed. We’ll have dinner downstairs.”

10

Judge

I pay my mother a visit early the following evening. She greets me in the kitchen, pouring herself a large glass of wine.

“Well, look who bothered to drop by,” she says, her back to me. “You going to call your dog off now?” She’s essentially been under house arrest since Miriam disappeared and before that, since the incident with Theron, I’d been having her followed.

“Evening, mother.” I sit down without waiting for an invitation because I’m not going to get one.

She turns to me, leans against the counter with her glass in her hands. “Are you here to tell me you’ve heard from my son?”

Her disdain of me, her very clear preference for Theron even after all he’s done shouldn’t bother me, but it still stings.

“Theron will be spending time in a rehab facility. Did you know about his addiction?”

“He’s not addicted. He just enjoys life.”

“Jesus. Are you so fucking blind?”

“He’s had a hard time of it, Judge. Not that you’d know about that.”

“I know plenty.”

“Which facility? I’ll go see him.”

“I don’t think so. Sit.”

She raises her eyebrows.

I push the chair out with my foot. “Sit. Now.”

She raises her chin. “You sound exactly like him, you know that?”

My grandfather. I don’t bother to comment. She’s goading me. Instead, I wait until she’s parked herself in the seat.

“You realize I can take everything away from you, don’t you?”

“Like you did your brother?”

“My brother hurt someone.”

“Not just anyone.” She smirks, sips her coffee. “I know you’re used to getting your way but you’re wrong on this one. That woman used him and got what she deserved.”

“He beat her.”