Free The Girl I Used to Be by April Henry

suit as he sits. “Those deaths happened miles away.” On the polished expanse of his desk, there’s just a sleek silver laptop and a penholder made of a can covered in burlap and lumpy felt flowers.
    He must be a father, which for some reason surprises me. Something twists in my chest as I remember a series of school craft projects we were supposed to bring home to our parents, or at least our moms. First I gave them to Grandma. Later I sometimes handed them over to a foster mom. More often I stuffed them in the trash on my way out of school.
    I force myself to persist. “Still, it’s super creepy. Plus I heard that that lady’s mom really did die there. Right in the kitchen.” I push away the heartbreak of finding my grandma dead, turn it into the horror it would be for a stranger. “Who wants to live in a place associated with so much death?”
    He closes his eyes for a second. “Look, I was good friends with the people who were killed. Especially Terry. So they’re not just dead people to me.” He focuses on me again. “They’re not just gossip .”
    â€œI’m sorry,” I say, but I can’t let it rest, not when he might know something. “Why do you think they were killed?”
    His words are low, as if pitched for his own ears. “Maybe they were just in the wrong place at the wrong time.” He is quiet for a long time, then nods his head. “I’m going to take a chance on you, Olivia, but don’t make me sorry.”
    I start to grin.
    Then he says, “The rent is eight fifty a month. I’ll just need first and last. We can take a credit or debit card or a check, although we’ll need two days for it to clear.” He looks at me expectantly, clearly waiting for me to fall to my knees in gratitude and then whip out my wallet.
    The house is now slipping from my grasp. In my bank account, there’s a little more than a thousand. “Could I make a down payment and then pay you the rest over a couple of weeks?” After all, I’ll get it back. Eventually. Minus his company’s 7 percent management fee.
    His voice sharpens. “What? No. That’s not how this works. Don’t tell me how much you want to live there unless you also have the money to pay for it.” His features pinch together. “I have a perfectly nice studio apartment I could probably get you into. It’s six fifty a month. Why do you need a whole house?”
    â€œI don’t want to live in an apartment anymore. Do you know what it’s like to be surrounded by other people all the time?” Look at this office, at his suit that probably cost more than my car. He can’t know what it’s like to hear everyone’s arguments and flushing toilets. “Now I want some privacy. And no one’s going to want to rent that house right now, not with the news, not when there are so many other rentals. The longer that house stays empty, the worse it will look. But if you let me rent it, I promise I’ll take care of it. I’ll make it look like a home again.”
    After a full minute of silence, he says, “As you point out, the house does need some sprucing up. I could let you paint the interior in exchange for the last month’s rent. But it has to be a careful job or the deal’s off. And I would need you to sign an agreement to that effect.”
    â€œOkay. You’ve got a deal.”
    Richard tilts his head and looks at me more closely. “Sure you don’t want to go into the real estate business, Olivia? Because your talents are wasted at Fred Meyer.”

 
    CHAPTER 16
    TURN THE KEY
    For I don’t know how long, I’ve been standing motionless on the front porch of what used to be my house and now is again. The key Richard gave me is in the lock, but I haven’t turned it. Instead, I’m pinching it so hard it’s leaving dents on the ball of my thumb and the side of my