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Heather catches Jamie’s chin and turns his face toward her. “Pretty.”
His smile disappears.
She releases him and closes her hand around my throat again. “Keep reading.”
“You don’t find this at all heavy-handed?”
Her hand tightens around my throat. “I didn’t ask what you thought.”
I glance toward the wooden ruler beside her. Heather follows my gaze. She doesn’t touch it. I turn the page and continue reading.
Jamie adds the E.
The story proceeds toward its inevitable conclusion while he reaches for the final silver letter.
R.
OLIVER lies across Jamie’s palm.
Heather turns his wrist so I can see the name he has made for me. Her other hand closes more firmly around my throat. “Look at him while you read.”
Jamie raises his eyes to mine. I turn the page. He begins filling the bracelet with the remaining colored beads. I reach the end of the story and close the book.
“Put it on him,” Heather says.
Jamie looks at her. “You want me to tie it?”
“I want you to do what I said.”
Heather takes my left wrist and places my hand in Jamie’s lap. The bandage crosses my palm. Jamie looks at it, then at me.
He wraps the bracelet around my wrist. His fingers avoid the scrape while he ties the cord.
Heather checks the knot herself. Then she turns the bracelet until the silver letters face up.
OLIVER.
“Thank him.”
I look at the identical lie around Jamie’s wrist. “Thank you, Jamie.”
His eyes meet mine. “You’re welcome, Oliver.”
Heather looks from one bracelet to the other. “Good boys.”
The first thing Jamie and I agree on is a lie.
CHAPTER 19
Heather
Oliver uses terrible shampoo.
I stand in his bathroom with the bottle open beneath my nose. It smells vaguely clean and mostly like nothing. The conditioner beside it isn’t any better, and the body wash is the kind of thing I could have bought while picking up laundry detergent.
“You’re welcome,” I tell him, although Oliver is currently napping in his room at home and can’t appreciate how much I’ve improved his life.
I put the shampoo back in the shower. I already bought him better products. Something that pretty shouldn’t smell like a drugstore aisle.
