Love or Money - Elizabeth Roderick Page 0,4

God.”

“I’m so happy you’re finally out, Riel.”

Riel looked up into her sister’s face. She was smiling her beautiful smile, but her brown eyes were dull and ringed in dark circles. A wave of pity tugged Riel into its riptide. Being married to Isaias couldn’t be easy.

Riel tickled the baby’s chin. Dark hair curled over the tiny girl’s forehead, and her huge, brown eyes were fringed with long, black lashes. She gave Riel a toothless grin.

“Can I hold her? Oh, she’s beautiful,” Riel said.

“Of course.”

Riel took the baby into her arms. Corinne blinked at her, then leaned forward to suck on her chin.

Riel giggled. “Not my chin!”

Isaias shifted on his feet, sniffing. “Let’s get out of this shithole. It gives me the creeps.”

Riel’s smile faded, and she pressed her lips together to stifle an annoyed retort. She handed the baby back to Lizette. “Okay, let’s go.”

They walked out the front doors into the sunlight, the balmy spring breeze catching Riel’s long hair. She felt suddenly dizzy. I’m free.

She climbed into the backseat of the extended-cab pickup and helped her sister strap the kids in.

“Olivia’s going to be so happy to see you,” Lizette said. “She stayed home with Mama Maria to help get ready for the party.”

“Party?” Riel asked.

“Your welcome home party,” Lizette said, climbing in the front seat.

Riel grinned. “Thank you.” She caught Isaias studying her over the back of his seat, and her happiness evaporated.

It was about a twenty minute drive to Lizette and Isaias’ house in Portland. Traffic surrounded them in a solid, roaring stream, the houses and businesses crowding thick alongside the freeway. Isaias had some rock band on the stereo, and Lizette chattered about the party—who was coming, how they’d stayed up half the night making tamales and cake. The baby squawked and Jessica kicked her legs and cried that she wanted cake now. It was overwhelming; so noisy and normal after the snide gossip and rough banter of the other prisoners; after the stale air, bleak lighting, and press of drab prison walls, Riel felt out of place. But she gathered up her voice and spoke over the noise.

“Do you know…will Evan be there at the party?”

Isaias shot her a cruel smirk, and Lizette’s bright smile faltered. “I don’t know,” she said. “I sent him an invitation, but I haven’t talked to him.”

Riel’s heart sank, and she could barely listen to her sister as Lizette launched into a recitation of all the family gossip since she’d been gone. She was obviously trying to lift Riel’s mood, but it wasn’t working. What do you care if Evan comes? He never wrote. He forgot about you as soon as they locked you up.

She and Evan had never truly been boyfriend and girlfriend, but part of her had hoped they were close enough that he’d at least send her a letter now and again. That maybe he’d thought about her as much as she’d thought about him.

She hugged her knees and sighed. Make yourself a new life. Well, she’d have to start from scratch. She’d forget about Evan, forget about Marissa, and make an entirely new world for herself. That was, if Isaias let her. Something in the way he looked at her made her suspect he had other plans.

They pulled off I-5 and wove through the streets of the suburban neighborhood where Lizette and Isaias lived. Riel was surprised at how unchanged it all was. There was the Thai restaurant where she’d had her first date with James Clayton, when she was fifteen. At the next intersection was the nail salon where she and Lizette used to go to have mani-pedis. And there was the Plaid Pantry where Isaias had her meet her first customer, back when he’d just had her flinging grams and eight balls.

She had changed so much in her fourteen months in custody, but in her absence the world had gone on like always.

They pulled into the tree-lined driveway of Lizette and Isaias’ two-story house. Olivia, Riel’s oldest niece, came running barefoot out the front door and over the manicured lawn, a little Pomeranian bounding at her heels. Isaias’ mother, Maria, stood in the doorway, the thin, brown skin of her brow gathered into deep wrinkles.

Olivia skipped up to Riel as she got out of the truck and flung herself into Riel’s arms. “Auntie Riel,” she said.

Riel clasped her arms tight around the little girl. “Olivia! I missed you so much.” The dog ran circles around them, yapping, his tongue hanging out.

Olivia took Riel’s