Page 36 of Desperate Creed

“No. No, she doesn’t. Maggie talked to a Chicago detective. Frankie, this is serious,” Hannah said and her voice was filled with concern. “There’s no easy way to say this. Tyler was shot. It happened not far from his friend’s apartment.”

“Oh my God! Is he okay?” Even as the words came out of her mouth, Frankie knew.

“I’m so sorry, sweetie. He’s dead.”

26

Florida Panhandle

Brodie didn’t mean to interrupt Hannah’s phone conversation. Hannah gestured for her to come into the kitchen then pointed to the freshly baked cookies. That was the aroma that had brought her back downstairs. Brodie still couldn’t get used to things like this. Not just baked goods, fresh out of the oven and set there on the counter, but the idea that she could take one whenever she wanted.

“You get some sleep, sweetie,” Hannah told the caller.

Brodie noticed that Hannah called several people “sweetie,” but she called Brodie, “Sweet Pea.”

“I’ll see you tomorrow.” Finished, Hannah looked at Brodie and said, “I don’t know about you, but I could sure use a glass of milk and a cookie. How about joining me?”

Brodie nodded.

“Grab a couple of small plates. I’ll get the milk.”

Brodie washed her hands at the sink. Some days she wondered if she would ever feel clean enough. Thankfully, no one gave her a hard time about it, except for Thomas, Hannah’s younger son, and usually it was only because he didn’t want anyone expecting him to wash his hands.

The cookies were still warm, the chocolate gooey and the edges crispy.

“Was that your friend, Frankie?” Brodie asked.

Hannah nodded.

Over dinner, she had told Brodie about her childhood friend, that she was in some trouble and might be staying with them for a few days. Isaac and Thomas were excited. They called her Aunt Frankie. But Hannah seemed concerned that it was okay with Brodie.

Which was yet another thing Brodie wasn’t used to—people asking and caring about her opinion. First, it was Ryder asking if it was okay for him to leave and now this. Brodie wished they didn’t worry so much. She wished they didn’t try so hard. She didn’t want to be a burden.

It reminded her of the day she arrived. At lunch everyone had been talking, asking polite questions, but mostly just making conversation. Suddenly, she realized they had all stopped and were staring at her plate. She had dismantled her sandwich, separating the bread, tomato, lettuce, cheese and turkey. Then she carefully put it back together again and started breaking it into bite-size pieces. At first, she thought maybe she shouldn’t be using her fingers. Was that why they were staring at her? But everyone else had their sandwiches in their hands.

It was Hannah who finally asked if everything was okay.

“Would you like something different?” she offered.

Brodie couldn’t imagine what would be more delicious. It even had mayo on it and the bread was fresh, no green mold or flecks of insects. Iris Malone often hid drugs in Brodie’s food, sometimes sneaking it in her favorites. Brodie hated the way the pills made her feel—not just groggy, but her body felt like it was disconnected from her brain.

“I’m sorry,” Brodie had finally told them when she knew she’d never be able to explain. She remembered how her fingers stilled, and her eyes stayed on her plate all the while feeling the flush of embarrassment. Soon she heard laughter and she wanted to crawl under the table.

“Well, it looks like you started a new trend,” Ryder said.

When Brodie looked up she saw that Isaac and Thomas had started breaking their sandwiches into small pieces and popping them into their mouths. It took her a minute to recognize the young boys weren’t mocking her. They were enjoying a fun new way to eat their lunch.

In the weeks since then, Brodie realized she was becoming a bit of a hero—a strange unconventional hero—to Hannah’s two boys. It wasn’t just granting them permission to break up their food and eat with their fingers. There were other things. Two days ago she’d killed a spider on their bedroom wall using the palm of her hand.

Their mouths dropped open, and their eyes were so wide that Brodie immediately asked, “What? Was it poisonous?”

Though she was pretty sure it wasn’t. As a girl growing up in the South, she had memorized what every poisonous spider and snake looked like. It had actually come in handy when she was confined to outdoor sheds and later, the basement prison.

It was ironic that Isaac and Thomas thought of her as a hero. They had no idea how much she had relied on them. One of her first lessons on manners came from Isaac. He kicked her under the table when she didn’t immediately follow his example of saying, “thank you.” Brodie hated to admit it, but she felt most comfortable with the two little boys. They didn’t treat her like she might shatter into tiny pieces. And despite being twenty-seven years old, she knew her mind and social manners were probably more on their level than her adult counterparts.

Now, as Hannah sat across the table from her, Brodie could see she was still concerned about her friend. She had heard more of the conversation than she wanted to confess. But she wanted to make Hannah feel better. She’d done so much to make her feel welcome in her home.

“You make the best cookies,” Brodie told her.