Free Always Watching by Brandilyn Collins Page A

out.
    “Bruce?”
    “Yeah.”
    “Thanks again.”
    He ran a hand down his goatee and gave me something close to a smile. “No problem.”
    “I’m going to give that picture to the detective. He might want to talk to you about what happened.”
    “He knows where to find me.”
    When he stepped into the hall, I closed and bolted the door.
    Tiredness flowed through me as I walked to my bed and sank down on the edge of the mattress. I narrowed my eyes at my suitcase. The white rose was in there. Probably withered by now.
    “You’d better go so you have time to talk to your mom before the detective gets here.” Brittany sounded tense. She lifted her new jeans from a bag. “I’ll take everything out for you. Cut off the tags.”
    Nervous energy. She was trying to keep busy. “Thanks.”
    Wincing, she plucked the “always watching” photo from a second bag and laid it on top of the TV. “Here.”
    With a sigh, I pushed to my feet and headed for the bathroom to fix my tear-tracked makeup. One look at my face like this, and Mom would guess what we’d been through.
    Done with that, I changed into one of my new pairs of designer jeans and a pink top. I checked myself in front of the full-length mirror.
    “Looks good.” Brittany had laid all her new clothes on the bed. “Shaley, thanks again for these.”
    “Sure.” Both of us were trying to sound excited about the clothes, but our hearts weren’t in it anymore. We’d have done better to stay in the room and watch movies all day.
    I crossed the room to my suitcase, peeled back the lid and picked up the boxed rose. It still looked fresh. “You hungry?”
    “No.”
    “Me either.”
    Facing Brittany, I took a deep breath. I knew what was going to happen. As much as I would try to hold back, I could feel the old questions rattling around in me already. No way could my Mom and I talk about a white rose without mentioning my dad. And those conversations, full of questions that refused to be answered, never went well.
    One look at me, and Brittany knew my thoughts. She walked over and gave me a hug. “It’ll be fine. You’ll see.”
    I nodded.
    The “always watching” picture — my second problem — still lay on the TV. If I approached Mom with it in my hand, she’d want to know what it was right away.
    I picked up the photo and stuck it in my purse.
    Here goes.
    Holding the boxed rose down against my leg, purse on my shoulder, I knocked on the connecting door that led to Mom’s room.

20
    T he latch clicked. Mom swung the door open.
    “Hi, honey.”
    “Hi.”
    She’d changed into jeans and a casual button shirt but was still in all her makeup from the interview and photo shoot. She looked fantastic. Marshall had done her eyes dramatically in mauve, gray, and dark blue with glitter in the eyeliner. Perfectly applied blusher accented her high cheekbones.
    Pain stabbed me, and I glanced away. Tom hadn’t been dead twenty-four hours, and already Marshall was taking over. Like we didn’t need Tom at all. I knew it was irrational, but at that moment I resented everything about Marshall. I’d always liked him before. But now just picturing him — his wide jowls, the black dreadlocked hair, and diamond studs in his ears — I felt resentment racing through my veins.
    I forced my eyes back to Mom. “You look so pretty.” If only Tom had done her makeup, she’d look even better.
    Mom smiled, and little tired lines appeared around her eyes. “Thanks.” She gave me a sad look, as if she’d read my thoughts. “I miss him too.”
    I pressed my lips together and nodded.
    Mom cleared her throat. “That outfit new?”
    “Yeah. Like it?” My voice sounded dull. But I turned around, giving her full view of the jeans and top.
    “Yes. Looks good on you.”
    I shut the door, leaving it unlocked. We walked over to swiveling gold armchairs in the lounge area and sat down. I put my purse on the floor. “How was the interview and photo shoot?”
    “Ill timed.”