I stalk away, and Killian rushes forward to open the door. “You my bodyguard?” I ask as he motions me inside.
“Yes. You’re welcome.”
There are eleven people inside. Four are girls, and they stare at him. He pretends not to notice.
“There are three Shells.” He whispers the words straight into my ear, making me shiver. “I don’t like this. Hurry.”
“How can you tell who’s what at a glance?”
“I’m that good.”
Yeah, yeah.
I go straight to the candy bars and grab five of my favorite.
On my way to the register, I notice the digital newspapers flashing this week’s headlines. For an extra five dollars I can upload the latest stories straight into my cell phone. Well, if my cell were activated.
Psychic Arrested. Never Saw It Coming!
Man Kidnaps Ex-girlfriend. Demands She Do His Ironing!
Dead Man Found in Cemetery. Town Distraught!
Pass on Marijuana? Issue Being Discussed by Joint Committee.
Then my dad’s picture flashes over the screen of Realm Politics Today.
The senator’s mistress is pregnant! No one is surprised, considering his wife, famed artist Grace Lockwood, left him, preferring to live in seclusion for over half a year. Hiding away with a lover, perhaps? Dr. Dewayne Reynolds, who is also married to someone else, was spotted on the premises more than once. But there’s a good chance Mrs. Lockwood and Dr. Reynolds have already split because Mrs. Lockwood is back with her husband. When asked about the senator’s love child, she had no comment.
I’m—utterly—flabbergasted. Soooo much happened while I was gone. My dad wasn’t lying when he said my mom was living in seclusion. He didn’t wait for her to return, either. He had a fling, and the woman is now having his baby.
Soon I’ll have the brother or sister I always wanted but never expected.
I smile. I curse. My dad found a loophole to population control since the law is geared toward women. Only they are limited to one child.
My dad might have even found a new bargaining chip for Myriad.
I taste blood and realize I’m biting my tongue. My sibling will not be used the way I was used. I’ll die first.
“Did you know?” I ask Killian with more bite than I intended. “About the mistress’s baby?”
“I knew only about the affair.” His tone has as much bite as mine. “I requested reports on his activities, and they must have been redacted. Someone’s keeping secrets.”
His words spur a memory. My mother’s flash-scribe.
I know I haven’t come to see you in forever, but there’s a very good reason. A beautiful secret. One that’s taught me how to be a mother again.
While she was speaking, a baby was crying. “I wonder if the mistress already had her baby.” Was my mother allowed to claim responsibility for it?
Killian places his hand over the digital paper, his eyes closed. He’s downloading the story?
“No,” he finally says. “The mistress is only seven months along.”
I open my mouth to say more, but the guy in front of me looks over his shoulder for a moment. Our eyes meet before he turns forward then back to look again, lingering this time. He starts to grin.
Killian moves in front of me. “You’ll want ta keep your attention ahead,” he tells the guy. “The sooner the better. For you.”
The guy’s cheeks redden, and he swings around.
I’m not sure if I just witnessed a display of jealousy or the equivalent of a dog peeing on my leg. But either way, I’m smiling when I shouldn’t have anything to smile about.
My turn comes up, and I pay with Archer’s wad of cash. The cashier stuffs everything in a bag, and Killian, my gentleman bodyguard, grabs the handles. I’ve just pivoted to head for the door when a weight slams into me from behind. There’s a stinging pain in my back then a throbbing pain in my hip as I slam into the counter.
With a growl, Killian spins to push the culprit away from me. “Be careful.”
“Sorry, sorry. I tripped.” A teen who looks like he’s suffering from a cold wipes his nose with a tissue, a ring too big for his hand glinting in the light...before sneezing all over Killian. The kid apologizes again, and he does look sorry. He also looks miserable. Poor guy.
Killian stares at his soiled shirt and grimaces.
I snort as I’m dragged to the exit. Then I remember my sibling.
“What’s wrong?” Archer asks.
Rather than lie with the typical girl response—Nothing, I’m fine—I settle inside the car and angrily unwrap my first candy bar. If ever a