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“You weren’t completely wrong,” I say.
She lifts her head.
I rub a hand down my face. The words scrape on the way up. “There was a kid once. Not mine. Not like that.”
Carmen waits.
“I should’ve put him on a better path,” I say. “Didn’t.”
Her eyes search mine.
I look away before she can see too much. “That’s all I’ve got.”
For a second, I think she might push for more.
She doesn’t.
“Okay,” she says. She sits up slowly and glances toward the hall. “Could you give Fifi her medication?”
Carmen knows exactly when to cut things off and give me something useful to do instead. She’s good like that.
The second I’m out of that bedroom, I can breathe a little easier.
In the kitchen, I measure out the drops and hide them in a piece of cheese. Then I crouch beside Fifi’s bed and hold it out to her.
“Not a day over a thousand, are you?” I mutter. “Pretty sure I’ve seen you in some hieroglyphs.”
The dog lifts her head, cloudy eyes blinking in my general direction. I’m not even sure she can see me. She sniffs the air, tongue poking out the side of her mouth, looking ancient and confused and weirdly hopeful.
Something in my chest loosens.
“You’re not that hideous, I suppose,” I say, holding the cheese closer. “Bit tragic, maybe. But not completely hideous.”
She snaps at the cheese, but the second her tongue flops out in that ridiculous sideways grin, the cheese drops beneath her chin.
“For fuck’s sake.”
I lift her slightly to grab it, and of course, she squirts a warm little stream of piss straight onto my hand.
A soft laugh comes from behind me.
I glance over my shoulder.
Carmen’s leaning against the doorway, watching us with a wide smile.
Something warm and unfamiliar settles deep in my chest. The corner of my mouth twitches before I can stop it. I try to fight the stupid half-grin, but it won’t go away.
“She only does that for me,” I say dryly. “Must be real special.”
Carmen’s smile grows. “We better get you in the shower.”
I’ve never moved so fast in my life.
35
LEVI
I’ve been putting this off for days. Every time I think about driving out here, my stomach knots up. Not because I don’t know what I’m walking into. Because I do. I know Ray. I know how he thinks, how he moves, how far he’ll go when someone backs him into a corner.
