Page 38 of My Darling Girls

“It’s not what you think, Jo.”

She raises a brow. “You don’t know what I think.”

“I can read your face. The establishment belongs to my family. Ira owns it.”

Jo doesn’t say anything.

“Look,” Finn says, stepping forward. He fixes her with his bright-blue eyes. “It’s business. Just like any other business.”

“I think you and I have different opinions on that,” Jo says coldly.

“Jo.” He doesn’t sound like himself. There are vulnerable, broken edges to his voice. He stops himself from saying whatever he was going to say, and Jo sees guilt rushing into his face. “Ira owns the place. Not me.”

“But you go to Ada’s? What do you do there, exactly?”

“I help Ada take care of business. That’s it.”

They look at each other, and the air feels electrified around them. Intoxicatedly intimate. With a hint of danger. Jo wants to believe him, but deep down she knows her doubts will continue to burn between them like a wildfire. Is he telling the truth? Is he lying? She might never know.

“Who died?” Grace’s voice asks from the hallway.

Finn looks over Jo’s shoulder. “What are you doing here?”

“Jo’s teaching me photography,” Grace replies.

Finn blinks. “You do what?”

“Come inside,” Jo says. “No need to freeze us all.”

Finn takes a few rushed steps and halts. “Does Gertie know?” There is a warning in his voice. “About you being here? Who’s watching the kids?”

“Tell me who died.” Grace’s voice is strained, shaky.

Finn, motionless and silent, looks at Grace, Jo, and then he looks down at his shoes.

“Finn,” Grace whispers.

“It’s Sally.” He steps toward Grace. “Last night.”

Grace wails, a long, anguished sound, a guttural cry. Animalistic. Her hand flies to her mouth as she slowly slides to the floor.

“Grace.” Jo rushes to the girl. “Grace. What is it?” Finn’s by Jo’s side, saying something, but Jo cannot hear him over Grace’s cries. She takes Grace’s face into her hands, but the girl swats them away.

“Don’t touch me,” she whispers.

“What’s happening? Who’s Sally?”

“They were friends,” Finn says. There’s a tremor, a hint of awkwardness as he says the word friends, and Jo knows. She knows exactly what he means.

She sits down on the floor by Grace’s side. Finn lowers himself on the floor across from them. They sit in silence and let Grace cry. No one says anything else, for what is there to say?

“He promised me she’d be safe,” Grace whispers hoarsely a few minutes later. “He promised me.”

Without a word, Finn slides to the girl across the floor and reaches out to Grace, pulls her toward him, and she presses her face against his chest.

“How did she die?” A muffled gasp.

Finn shakes his head. “No matter now.”