Neal rapped on the door and waited, half hoping no one would answer. It had been years since she’d been here. Guilt told her it was more than she realized, but nothing had changed about the outside appearance of her childhood home. The paint was still peeling, the wooden slats on the porch were still old and rotting. No matter how much money she sent, nothing ever stayed in shape. Cash couldn’t buy caring and it never would.
She knocked one more time and, after a moment, started to walk away. It had been a silly impulse that had brought her here, like returning to the scene of a crime ever benefited the criminal. She could only blame all the focus lately on the disintegration of the Mancuso family for causing her to crave familial bonds of her own, but she should’ve known better than to think her troubled past would suddenly morph into an idyllic memory.
“Neal?”
She instantly recognized the voice but hesitated before turning around in order to school her features into what she hoped was a neutral expression. She turned and forced a smile. “Hi, Mom.”
“Oh my goodness. Oh my goodness.” Ida Walsh raised her hands to punctuate each exclamation. “Get in here right now.” She reached for Neal’s arm. “Right now. Oh my goodness.”
It was too late to escape now. She stepped toward the door, but her mother grabbed her into her arms before she could cross the threshold. She submitted to the tight hug and forced herself to take long, slow breaths, hoping it hadn’t been a mistake to come here.
When her mom finally released her grip, she followed her inside. Unlike the outside, the inside of the house had changed over the years. The furnishings were new and the floors were covered with luxury vinyl tile, although Neal failed to see anything luxurious about it. Still, it was a step up from the worn and tattered carpet that it replaced. The walls were bulging with shelves full of what her mom called “collectibles,” better known as junk purchased from the television shopping networks, purchases financed with the money she sent home every month. She sniffed the air. “Something’s different.”
Her mom reached for a case on the table next to her recliner, and proudly thrust it toward her. “I quit smoking. Found this instead. Comes in all kinds of flavors.”
Neal unzipped the case to find a vape and several cartridges. A whiff of fake pineapple scent wafted from the inside and she turned her head away.
“Don’t you go using that,” her mom said. “It’s my favorite. Piña colada. Almost makes me think I’m sitting on the beach, catching rays.” She tossed her hair and batted her eyelashes to emphasize the point.
Neal set the case down, praying her mom wouldn’t fire up the vape while she was here and resolving that she wouldn’t be here for long, no matter what. This house, her family, had always been stifling, but she’d been away so long, she’d allowed herself to forget exactly how suffocating it was to be immersed in a past that was so far removed from what she’d become.
What would Ana think if she could see her now? Ana, who lived in an opulent mansion, dripping with expensive furnishings.
Siobhan had seen this place and she didn’t judge.
Siobhan was different. She’d grown up in the Mancuso mansion, but as the child of the cook, not as the rightful heir to the family fortune. Besides, when Siobhan had been here, she’d had one purpose—to collect the debt Neal owed the family. She wouldn’t have given a shit where she’d come from as long as she did her duty.
Because all you are to her is a servant.
Dominique’s words burrowed past the security she’d allowed herself to feel all these years. Her admonition struck a chord because it was true. She’d grown up dirt poor with a mother who thought all the fine things in life could be ordered from QVC, and a father she’d never know. Her sister had been her only comfort, but fate had whisked her away. Her only talents were her height and her ability to shoot a basketball with incredible accuracy, and those gifts had fallen short of allowing her to escape this place. It wasn’t until she threw everything away that she’d found a way out. She’d never questioned the decision to throw the championship game or the pledge to pay Don Carlo back for saving her life, but if she could go back and make different choices from the very beginning, what would her life be like now?
Neal took a long, deep breath. She owed a deep, deep debt to Siobhan and Don Carlo—there was no question that was true. The only question was whether the debt would ever be repaid and what happened after that. Would she be free to leave? To strike out on her own and find a life that didn’t rely on protecting someone else’s? Sure, Siobhan was making her a capo, but a capo was supposed to have a piece of the action. From what she could tell, the show was nearly over.
“Just you wait until you see what I made for dinner.”
Her mother’s words jerked her back to the present, and a wave of nausea struck. “I’m sure whatever it is will be great, but I can’t stay. I stopped by on my way to see Sarah.” She pushed past the grimace her mother reflected her way. “Visiting hours will end soon.”
“She won’t know you’re there.” She shrugged. “But if you want to waste your time pretending to have a conversation with her instead of spending it with me, that’s fine. It’s not like anything you ever did made sense. Dropping out of school and moving away. Leaving us here to fend for ourselves.”
She kept up the rant in between long puffs of the pineapple vape, and Neal started moving to the door. She should’ve known better than to think anything had changed. Fend for herself? Ida hadn’t fended for herself in years, and as for Sarah, her room at the home cost more in a year than Ida would make in a lifetime.
The lack of gratitude used to make her mad, but now it only made her sad. Her mom had been so excited when she’d received the scholarship to Tulane. She’d been certain Neal was destined to play professional ball. She’d gone on and on about how they would finally be secure. They could take care of Sarah, buy a bigger house. When she’d won the championship only to have her leg broken, she’d been devastated, but her mom went next-level catastrophe. She even accused her of sabotaging “their” future, as if she had anything to do with Neal’s success in the arena.
She opened the door and waited a moment to see if Ida would calm down long enough for her to say good-bye, but she’d disappeared into the kitchen and was still on a tear. “Bye, Mom,” Neal yelled into the void and she stepped out onto the porch. When she’d arrived, every detail about its disrepair was nudging her to send money to spruce the place up. Now, all she wanted to do was burn it to the ground along with all her memories of this life. She’d go see Sarah, but this would be the very last time she’d show up at her mother’s house.
The drive to the home was so short it felt silly not walking, but she didn’t want to leave her car at Ida’s. She’d picked the place for its proximity to her mother, thinking she’d be visiting often, but she had a feeling that wasn’t the case. Ida had never been maternal, and any kind of illness made that abundantly clear. Her remark about Sarah not recognizing her told Neal that Ida probably didn’t make it by very often at all, which was probably for the best.
She parked the car in the visitors’ lot and had her choice of spots. When she reached the front door, she glanced around, certain she was being watched. She didn’t see anyone nearby, but as soon as she walked inside, she heard a voice call her name. She turned to see Ana standing about six feet away. What the hell?
Ana turned in her direction and their eyes met. Neal was completely captivated, and she had no idea how long she’d been under Ana’s spell before her brain interjected a loud What is she doing here?
“You’re okay.”
Neal heard the heavy relief in Ana’s words. “Of course.”
“I came to the hotel, but you weren’t there. I asked you to wait for me.”
So that’s what this was about? Neal bristled at the scolding. “You sent a prostitute with a note. That’s not the same thing as showing up yourself. I decided not to wait around.”
“You left with Dominique Mancuso. Lauren was under the impression you did so under duress.” Ana frowned. “Forgive me for thinking you were in trouble.”
Guilt edged into Neal’s anger, but she shoved it aside. She didn’t have to explain herself to Ana no matter how much money she’d infused into the family business. Besides, it wasn’t like it was her family. Sure, Siobhan had said she was made now, but did she even have the authority to make it so? All she had was her word.
Which had always been enough before you met with Dominique.
Everything about her meeting with Dominique had left her agitated and she hadn’t even begun to process Dominique’s offer. She wished she could talk to someone about it, but there wasn’t anyone she could trust, which led her back to what the hell was Ana doing here? “How did you know I would be here?”
“I didn’t, but Siobhan gave me a list of places she thought you might be if you weren’t with Dominique. I took a guess this would be the most likely one.”
Neal took a moment to process the fact that Ana had been concerned enough about her disappearance to go directly to Siobhan, and that Siobhan had shared this aspect of her private life with a virtual stranger. “And she decided you were wrong about Dominique taking me hostage?”
Ana shrugged. “She decided if that were the case, she had the appropriate resources to handle it. I’m quite certain she sent me off looking in other directions because she doesn’t want me to have any contact with her half-sister.”
It sounded weird to have Siobhan referred to as Dominique’s half-sister, but also accurate. “Maybe she’s decided Dominique isn’t a force of evil after all.”
Ana narrowed her eyes. “Or perhaps that’s what you’ve decided. Since it appears you’re not Dominique’s hostage after all, have you formed an alliance with her? Are you here doing her bidding? Trust me when I tell you that she and Mikhail are up to no good. Whatever they’ve told you is designed to get you to help them, and them alone.”
“And you came all this way to tell me that?”
“That surprises you? Did you not read my note?”
Shit. Neal reached into her pocket and drew out the folded card. She’d completely forgotten about it in her haste to get out of town, and she felt strange reading it while Ana was standing right there. “Why don’t you tell me what it says?”
Ana reached out her hand and placed it over Neal’s, drawing it back down to her pocket. “Not now. Read it later when you are ready. For now, tell me why we are here at this place.” She gestured to the door of the facility.
Neal hesitated. The only person outside of her family who knew about her sister was Siobhan. Sarah was a vulnerability she’d prefer no one ever be able to use against her again, but she heard genuine concern in Ana’s voice at finding her here, at wondering why she was at this place. She’d spent the entire drive here wishing she had someone to confide in, and the words simply spilled out. “My sister has lived here for many years. She’s completely disabled and she probably doesn’t even know where she is or who I am, but I need to see her.”
“Of course you do.” Ana looked around appearing completely nonplussed. “Do you want me to leave you alone or would you like some company on your visit?”
The second option wasn’t anything she would have thought possible, but the idea of not having to face Sarah’s situation by herself was a huge relief. She reached out a hand. “Come on.”
They signed in at the front desk and a few minutes later, Danielle, an orderly Neal had met on several occasions, led them back to a room at the far end of the building. This facility was the best one in the region, but Neal hated the institutional feel, the smell, the sterilized everything about the place. Sarah’s life had had such promise before the accident, but now it was reduced to a bed and a feeding tube. She should visit more, but it was a painful reminder of both their wasted lives. What would Sarah think if she knew what she did for a living now? Sarah who’d sat in the front row at her games, cheering louder than anyone else in the crowd.
She stopped at the door to Sarah’s room and turned to Ana. “You don’t have to come in.”
“Do you want me with you?”
“I don’t want to be alone.”
“Then I’m here for you. Why can’t you trust that I know what I want?”
It was a good question, and the answer was likely that she didn’t know what she wanted for herself so she was projecting, but that sounded a little too much like psychobabble for her to admit out loud. Neal grabbed the door handle. “Come on then.”
Sarah was propped up in bed, her eyes vacant and unmoving. She wore a royal blue blouse that Neal recognized as one she’d bought for her birthday last year and she figured Danielle, who she generously tipped whenever she visited, probably dressed her in it when she learned Neal was here for a visit. Sarah had always loved the color and Neal liked to think she knew she was wearing it now, but the truth was that while it made her feel better, the blouse probably had no effect on Sarah whatsoever.
She strode over to the bed and took her sister’s hand. She owed it to her to continue to pretend. “Hey, Sarah, it’s been a while, right?” She pointed over her shoulder. “I have company today. This is Ana.”
Ana waved. “Hello, Sarah, it’s nice to meet you.”
Neal nodded and Ana stepped closer. “I like to think she can hear us,” she whispered.
“I’m sure she can,” Ana replied. “The brain is very resilient, even when the body is not.”
Neal flashed back on her mother’s words denying that fact, and appreciated even more that Ana was here with her. She pointed at the chairs Danielle had set up next to the bed. “Let’s sit. Sarah gets antsy when we’re standing.”
“Of course.”
Neal watched Ana settle in the seat. She appreciated the way Ana was so matter-of-fact about this visit and Sarah’s condition. What would she think if she knew why Sarah was confined to this place, unable to care for herself or live out the life she’d dreamed? Not for the first time, Neal considered it karmic that she’d sacrificed her own dreams trying to make up for the fact Sarah had lost hers. They’d both wound up with nothing, and paying for Sarah’s care and these few and far between visits were slim tokens of retribution.
“What do you two usually talk about?”
Ana looked at her intently as she asked the question, like she truly wanted to know the answer. “We have a series of favorite topics. Current events, except for politics. Best new restaurants, but I kind of suck at it because food is really not my thing.” She paused. “Sometimes, I read to her. The last book was Gone Girl.”
“Ah, you are a mystery buff.”
“I wouldn’t say I’m a buff, but I do enjoy suspense.” Neal looked at Sarah. “She’s always loved them, and I like to think she reacts when I read.”
“I’m sure you’re right. Why don’t you read to her now?”
Neal held out her hands. “I don’t have a book with me. This trip was kind of last minute.”
Ana rolled her eyes. “We’ll talk about the reason behind your desire to escape Dallas in a hurry more later, but let’s find a book for you to read to your sister.” She pulled out her phone, punched a few buttons, and handed it over.
Neal took it from her and stared at the book app on the screen, already loaded with the latest from J.M. Redmann. Surprised that Ana was familiar with the lesbian detective series, she looked up at her and spotted a trace of a smile. “You already had this loaded on your phone?”
“Yes, and welcome to this century where you don’t have to lug around a hard copy of a book you want to read. How old are you anyway?”
Neal smiled at the ironic reference to the difference in their ages. She was twenty-eight, but most days the weight of her responsibilities left her feeling a decade older. She knew from her research that Ana was in her forties though the exact age was hard to pin down. “I like the feel of a book in my hand.”
“Me too, but if others were to find the books I like to read lying around the house, it would cause problems.”
Neal held up the phone. “Like this one?”
“Exactly like that one.” Ana shrugged. “Anyway, I thought that because we’re near New Orleans, it would be the perfect choice.”
Neal had more questions. Many more, but she was here for Sarah and now was not the time, so she echoed Ana’s words from earlier. “We’ll talk more about your penchant for lesbian detectives, but now I’m going to read to my sister. Would you like to stay?”
Ana’s smile was broad this time. “I was hoping you would ask.”