Page 151 of The Wrong Brother

“You’ll need somewhere safe afterwards.”

“No.”

“Shannon—”

“I saidno.” Her lips press together stubbornly. “I’m not selling my testimony.”

The answer surprises me enough that I stop arguing. She draws a slow breath.

“If I ever stand in front of him again...” Her voice steadies. “...it won’t be because someone paid me.”

Despite everything, I feel the corners of my mouth lift.

“Fair enough.”

The tension eases slightly. I glance toward the faded photograph sitting on the kitchenette counter. Kate would have been seven when it was taken. I remember sending it to the PO Box, back when I’d just learned that Shannon was no longer at the trailer park.

“You’d be proud of her.”

Shannon’s face crumples, fingers going to her mouth again. Her lips part, but she doesn’t say anything, so I continue: “She’ll be thirteen soon. She’s a social butterfly. And smart; too smart for her own good.”

A watery smile appears.

“Stubborn.”

Tears shake at the edges of Shannon’s eyes.

“She loves reality TV, even though I’m trying to get her away from it. She has so many friends.” I find myself smiling moregenuinely now. “She wants to play tennis, but between you and me, I don’t think she’s coordinated enough for it.”

A laugh escapes my niece’s mother.

“That sounds like me. And...does she...” She hesitates. “Does she have someone?”

I frown. “What do you mean?”

“A woman. Do you have a—is there a woman who’s like a mother—” Her voice grows smaller, and she’s unable to finish the question, but I grasp where it was going.

The guilt laps at me like waves on the shore. So I fumble the answer, caught off guard, murmuring, “Emma.”

“Emma?”

“Emma is…” I trail off, unsure how to explain as something painful flashes across Shannon’s face. “Emma is in my life; she…”

I want to say:I think she’ll stay. I hope she’ll stay. I want to raise our child with her by my side; I want Kate to have someone to chatter to as she gets older.

“Not like that,” I finish lamely, obviously unprepared for this line of questioning.

Shannon looks up.

“Emma isn’t trying to replace you,” I try again, more firmly this time. “She’s someone I’m seeing. But she is not a mother-figure to Kate, and isn’t trying to be.”

“She isn’t?”

“No. She’s her friend. Kate likes her.”

“And you?”

I hesitate. “Emma is...” I exhale softly. “Complicated.”