Chapter 2 — Bethany
Emily got three blocks from the courthouse before she realized she had no idea where she was going.
She stopped outside a pharmacy, dug the dead phone out of the paper bag, and pressed the power button again even though she had already tried it twice.
Nothing.
“Yeah, all right.”
The screen stayed black.
She had one hundred and forty-one dollars now, which was considerably better than forty-one, but still not enough to make the rest of her life appear.
Emily looked back toward the courthouse.
The man in the hoodie was gone.
She caught a loose bit of skin on her lower lip with her thumbnail and peeled at it while she thought.
There was one person she could call.
The pharmacy had a cheap charger near the register. Emily bought it, sat beside the front window, and waited long enough for her phone to drag itself back to life.
The first call went straight to voicemail.
She called again.
Bethany picked up on the fourth ring.
“Who died?”
Emily leaned back in the plastic chair.
“Nice to hear your voice too.”
There was a pause. Then Bethany said, “Emily?”
“Unfortunately.”
“Where the fuck are you calling me from?”
“A pharmacy.”
“What happened?”
“I just got out.” Emily glanced around at the woman behind the register, pretending not to listen. “Today.”
“Okay. Why are you in a pharmacy?”
“My phone was dead.”
“Emily…”
“I’m fine.”
“You’ve been out how long?”
She checked the wall clock. “Maybe forty minutes.”
Bethany swore under her breath.
Emily smiled despite herself.
Bethany had been fifteen years older when they first met, another girl who had come through the same system and somehow made it far enough out to start helping the ones still stuck inside it.
She had taught Emily how to drive, how to keep cash where nobody would find it, how to leave before an argument turned dangerous, and how to tell when an adult was being nice because they wanted something.
Emily had been ten, and Bethany had been the first person who stayed.
“Come here,” Bethany said.
“You working?”
“Not till tomorrow.”
“I don’t want to mess up your night.”
“Well, you’re sleeping on my couch. So don’t worry.”
Emily picked harder at her lip. “Okay.”
It took her two buses to reach Bethany’s apartment.
Bethany opened the door before Emily knocked.
She was thirty-eight now, hair tied up badly, socks on, no makeup. She looked at Emily for several seconds before pulling her into a hug.
Emily stood stiffly for the first second.
Then she hugged her back.
“You got skinny,” Bethany said.
“County wasn’t great for bulking.”
She let go and looked Emily over again. “Come inside.”
The apartment smelled the same. Laundry detergent and whatever candle Bethany had been buying for the last five years.
Emily put her paper bag on the table.
Bethany looked at it.
“That everything?”
“Pretty much.”
Bethany shook her head and went into the kitchen.
Ten minutes later, Emily was sitting at the table with coffee and half a sandwich while Bethany read Hollis’s card.
“Holloway,” she said.
“Yeah.”
“And some old woman wants you to move into her house?”
“She wants a companion.”
“Rich people have nurses.”
“She has those too, apparently.”
Bethany looked up. “How much?”
Emily told her.
Bethany stopped chewing. “Bullshit.”
“I made him repeat it three times.”
“And he knew about your case? About…you know…”
“Everything.”
“Okay, that’s weird that they’re still interested in hiring you.”
“I know.”
“So...you’re going to take this job.”
Emily took another bite. “I didn’t say I was.”
“You’re thinking about it.”
“I have nothing right now, Beth.”
“You have my couch.”
“But for how long?”
Bethany’s expression changed.
Emily knew that look too, so she put down the sandwich.
“I’m not being shitty. I’m just asking,” she said.
“For as long as you need.”
She rubbed her thumb across the raw place on her lip.
Bethany watched her do it. “Stop picking.”
Emily dropped her hand. “Well, to start…I need work, Beth.”
“We’ll find you work.”
“With this?” She gestured toward herself, then stopped. “I mean the record. Or not the record, technically, since the charges were withdrawn. Fuck, you know what I mean.”
Bethany did.
“Something happened,” she said.
Emily looked at her.
“With Ashford. I mean, something happened to make him back off.”
“Yeah.”
“And now some rich woman sends a man to meet you outside?”
Emily leaned back. “You think they’re connected?”
“I think you got released and five minutes later somebody offered you more money than you’ve ever made in your life.”
She looked at the card again.
Bethany tapped it with one finger.
“Call them tomorrow if you want. Ask questions. Don’t agree to anything yet.”
Emily nodded.
That was probably sensible. She hated the fact that she didn’t ask Hollis questions as soon as he offered her the job. It was the most sensible to do then and she didn’t do it.
Bethany stood and carried her mug to the sink.
Emily watched her. “You want to go get a drink?”
Bethany turned around. “No.”
“One drink.”
“Ems, I’m two years sober. What the hell?”
Emily closed her eyes briefly. “Right. Shit. Sorry. I forgot.”
Bethany stared at her. “You forgot I’ve been sober for two years?”
Emily gave her an apologetic look. “Well, congratulations on the two years. Terrible timing for me.”
Bethany laughed once despite herself. “You’re an asshole.”
“I know.”
“You can drink here if you want, Ems. I’ll make tea.”
“That's depressing,” Emily said, then looked toward the couch.
Bethany followed her eyes. “Or you can just sleep.”
“I’ve done enough sleeping in places I didn’t choose.”
“Emily.”
But Emily was already standing.
“Fine. Text me, okay?”
“I will.”
“And don’t get into trouble.”
Emily pulled the coat on. “You know I don’t make promises.”
“You know exactly what I mean.” Bethany gave her a look. “Or just drink here. We can grab a few bottles.”
“You’re two years sober, Beth. I’m not going to be an asshole and sit there drinking in front of you.” Emily pulled on the coat. “And I’m not staying inside because some asshole might decide a woman sitting alone at a bar is an invitation.”
“I’m thinking I’d rather know you’re somewhere safe.”
“And I’m thinking women like me should be able to go out, have a drink, sit at a bar, and mind our own damn business.”
Bethany crossed her arms over her chest. “That doesn't make you invincible.”
“No. But if every woman who wants to go out alone stays home because some men can’t behave themselves, those assholes win.”
Bethany opened her mouth.
Emily pointed at her. “And don't give me that face. It’s not a grand feminist crusade. I just want a drink.”
Bethany sighed. “At least take my coat.”
“I’m good.”
“Please, Ems. Don’t be such a pain in my ass now. You just got out.” Bethany tossed her a thicker coat anyway.
Emily caught the coat and sighed. “Fine.”
“Seriously.”
“I heard you, Mommy.”
