NA

n house. The driver dropped me at the address on the keychain. It was an

om a "dump." Good. It would keep

dark green, the paint peeling in places. I took a deep

also completely impersonal. The furniture was sparse and functional: a sofa, a bed, a table. The

oks like, I thought. I started cleaning, wantin

clothes, my art supplies, and a por

ll when my phone rang. The caller ID said "Beckett

ipped a bea

s still cool, distant, fi

st got here

way. Did you get the credit card? The lawyer was supposed to m

It should be

I could picture him standing in a hallway, his face tense. He must have noticed someone watching him, be

sappointment washing over me. What

and got back to work. It might be simple,

ed him my new address, making

sica's voice came through the speaker. "Fiona, let us in." I refused and hung up. A few minutes later, however, footsteps sounde

asn't Beckett. It was Jessica's mother, Susan Price,

een me. Susan started pounding on the door. "Fiona!

he door a crack. "Mrs. Price, J

nt, her face a mask of contempt. "My God, Fiona! This is the pigsty you c

st worried about you. Come home wit

laugh escaped me. "How is l

had came from our family! And now you turn your back o

I had depended on them, yes, but that didn't

iend," I said, my voice quiet but firm. It was the first t

n's scorn intensified. "I'm telling you, you'll regret this! When he

ave been over by now. He was probably calling to check whether the credit card had

face twisted into a cruel smile. "Well, speak of the devil. Let's see what kind

ce came through, cool

d into the phone, her voice dripping with condescension. "I'm advising you to stay a