Why make things complicated?
It is common sense to focus on my life and the future.
I look up from my plate of garlicky shrimp pasta and vegetables to find my mom still watching me. “You know I hate goodbyes. All day, people were coming up to me and getting, like, emotional and stuff.”
It’s true. It’s documented fact I hate farewells and hugs from work colleagues. Both of which I got plenty.
Now it’s my dad’s turn to frown. “Did Travis try to talk to you again?”
“He tries every day, but since I’m out of here, he’s no longer my problem.” I pause, contemplating for a second before I continue, “Probably best not to share my new address if he happens to ask.”
“What does that mean?” His eyebrows slam together. “Do your brother and I have to go pay him a visit?”
I roll my eyes. “No. Don’t be ridiculous. The last thing I need is to bail you out of jail or represent you in a court of law.”
My mom’s lips press together at the mention of the Travis incident.
I do my best to reassure her. “Nothing is wrong, Mom. I’m tired and peopled out.”
It’s not a lie. I am operating on very little sleep.
After all the exercise I got in the back seat of Charlie’s truck, I should have slept like a baby, but I didn’t.
He feels unfinished all over again.
I look imploringly across the table at Hailey, who is daintily swirling a fork in her linguini.
Hailey was one of those postpartum oops babies. We’re only thirteen months apart, making us virtually twins, so we have excellent silent communication. “Guess what? While I packed, I finally decided how I’m going to murder my victim.”
My mom’s expression instantly transforms into delight. “That’s excellent, honey. I told you that you’d break through that rough spot.”
I jump on the subject with zeal. “Did you decide on the poison or throwing them off the roof?”
“Neither! I’m going to hack them up with a chainsaw and scatter the body parts over the city. It’s going to be dark and personal. Each limb Morgan finds will reveal another piece of the puzzle and lure her deeper into the killer’s trap.” She stabs at a shrimp with maniacal glee. “It will lead her down the path of obsession, resulting in a series of yet-to-be-defined horrible decisions. You know, for her overarching character development.”
“Morgan hates feeling vulnerable,” my mom says, as though this fictional woman Hailey created is a real, breathing person.
In fairness, Morgan Reed, our tragically beautiful heroine—who finds dead bodies like other women find shoes and goes through men like used tissues during the height of flu season—has been in our lives for a long time, so she’s part of the family.
My father sighs. “All I ask is that we don’t talk about dismemberment during dinner.”
“Sorry, Dad. The last couple of books, Steele was off again, and this will drive her into his arms, sending her into a deeper spiral.” As Hailey speaks, each word becomes louder and fills with escalating excitement.
Alex Steele is Morgan’s one true love. A damaged ex-cop kicked off the force with a chip on his shoulder. They have amazing sexual tension, are terrible to each other, and full of angst.
All of a sudden, my mom’s eyes well with tears. “I’m going to miss you girls.”
Hailey’s eyes immediately begin to water. “Noooo! You can’t cry. If you cry, I’ll cry. We won’t be that far. Think of how much we see Ryder. We’ll still have Sunday dinners.”
“I know.” She sniffs and carefully wipes under her lashes with a napkin. “But it’s been so fun having you girls in the house again. I didn’t realize how much I missed it.”
Oh no, they’re getting weepy, and I can’t handle a cryfest. My emotional reserves are depleted. “You’re romanticizing. Remember how you pulled your hair out when we were teenagers.”
“Not because of me. Ryder and Jessica are the problem children.” Hailey beams like the perfect daughter she is.
I stick out my tongue at her. “Okay, you’ll miss Hailey, but think of how happy you’ll be to get rid of me.”
“Don’t even joke, Jessica. You know we love you just as much as Hailey,” my mom admonishes.