A Book of Spirits and Thieves - Morgan Rhodes Page 0,30
to pursue photography full time. I don’t need a diploma for that, do I?”
The look of shock on his face almost made her grin. “Please tell me you’re lying.”
“I don’t really like lies. I prefer to tell the truth whenever possible. It’s much easier to keep track of.”
He frowned at her. “Crissy, you need to focus on school. It’s important.”
“I disagree. What are you going to do? Call Mom to have a friendly discussion about my future?”
He sighed and pushed his sandwich away. “Maybe I should.”
“Aunt Jackie didn’t graduate.”
“Jackie is rude and reckless, and has never taken any real responsibility for her poor decisions.”
Crys shrugged. “I think she’s awesome.”
“Most likely because you obviously don’t know everything about her.”
His acidic tone made her want to argue on behalf of her aunt, but Crys fought the urge. She didn’t have time to get distracted. “You should be proud, though,” she said. “I’m still using your camera. I’m really good, too. I’ve even placed in the finals in a couple of contests.” She pulled the Pentax out of her bag to show him.
He reached over and took it from her, turning it over in his hands. “Did you ever get a flash for it?”
“No reason to. Light and shadow—that’s all I need. Besides, flashes are expensive.” Time to turn this conversation back around. She summoned up her courage and reached across the table to grab his hand. He looked down guardedly. “Listen to me, Dad. You told me once that you wanted to take me with you. Was this what you were talking about? Leaving Mom to be a part of this secret society of yours?”
“I didn’t know what I was saying back then. I was confused.”
“I hated you for a long time for what you did. I still do.” The truth of the words left a sour taste in her mouth. “You left and you didn’t even try to contact me . . . not even once! I could have kept it a secret. I wouldn’t have told Mom if you didn’t want me to.”
“I’ve tried my best to respect her wishes.”
“Well, Mom and me . . .” She bit her bottom lip. “We don’t get along that well. I know she thinks Becca’s the perfect one, and she’s probably right about that.”
It hurt Crys to say that because she believed this. It seemed as if her mother raved over every A-plus essay Becca brought home, over every accomplishment. Becca had been the one to figure out the new computer system to organize the shop and its accounting. The two talked about the books they’d read for hours on end while Crys tried to watch TV.
Practically the only time her mother ever spoke to Crys directly these days was to comment on something she’d done wrong.
“That’s not true,” her father said, shaking his head. “She loves both of you girls equally. Some of her rules might seem harsh, but they’re because she loves you.”
“Whatever. She expects too much from me. I know I’ll never make her proud. I would have said yes, Dad. I would have gone with you. I would have joined this society that’s making such a big difference in the world.”
His jaw tensed up as he studied her, a frown creasing his brow. “You have to be sixteen to be invited in. You were only fifteen at the time.”
“Well, I’m seventeen now and . . .” She took a deep breath. “And I want in. I want to be a part of your life again, Dad.”
His brows drew together tighter. “Crystal—”
“I want to know more.” She cut him off so she could finish making her case. “Is there someone I can meet with? Someone I can persuade to let me join? I want this, Dad. I want to be a part of your life again. And if what you’re saying is true—that you’re, like, literally helping to save the world by being a part of this secret society, then I want to help, too.”
As she said it, she realized she wasn’t lying. She wanted to be part of her father’s life, and she wanted to know everything about this group that had stolen him away from his family.
Maybe he was right and her mother was wrong.
It wouldn’t be the first time.
Three years ago, when cash began disappearing from the till—five to twenty dollars a few times a week, Julia had accused Crys directly because she’d once been detained at the Eaton Centre on suspicion of shoplifting (which had actually