Page 55 of Volatile Vice

Then he parked my car in the driveway, got into his own car with Fred at the wheel, and drove away.

My mother was waiting up for me in the kitchen, of course. Dad was in the study.

I saw my mother, kissed her cheek, told her I was fine, and went to bed in the guest room.

This morning I’m up early, and I head into the kitchen where my mother stands at the stove, staring into space.

“You okay, Mom?” I ask.

She nods.

But she’s lying. How can she be okay? My mother has been to hell and back. First with Falcon, and then with me and my illness. And now with this horrific crime that took place in our own home. Maybe our lunch yesterday helped a little…but only a little.

Finally, she gathers her composure. “Breakfast, Ray?”

“Sure, Mom. Two eggs, scrambled. Toast.”

My mother robotically prepares my breakfast. I want to tell her I can fix my own breakfast, or that I’m not hungry—which I’m not, but I know I’ll eat anyway. But she needs her routine. She thrives on it.

She prepares my breakfast and places it in front of me on the table, along with her signature tall glass of orange juice.

I drink it all without complaint.

I’ll pay for it later with the heartburn, but it makes Mom happy.

“I think I’ll try to contact another attorney about my nonprofit,” I say once I’m done with my breakfast.

Mom jerks around, looking me straight in the eye. “You’re still going to do that?”

“Yeah, I think so. I considered not doing it, in light of what happened to Mr. Latham. I thought maybe I would go back to school. But no. I want to do my nonprofit. I’ve already thought of a name for it.”

“Oh?” Mom’s tone is noncommittal.

“Yeah. Raven’s Wings. Isn’t that a great name?”

“You’re naming it after yourself?”

I purse my lips. “Is that not good?”

She blinks for a moment and then shakes her head. “I’m sorry, honey. Raven’s Wings is a great name. I don’t know what’s gotten into me.”

She doesn’t need to explain herself. I know exactly what’s gotten into her, and so does she.

I place a hand on her upper arm. “Mom, everything’s going to be okay.”

She closes her eyes, takes a deep breath in, and then sighs. “Raven, I don’t want you in this position. I don’t want you in a position where you’re tellingmethat everything’s going to be okay. That’smyjob. I’m the mother here. I need to be taking care of you.”

I chuckle lightly. “That would be true if I were five or ten. Or even eighteen. But I’m nearly thirty years old, Mom. Yes, I’ve been through hell. And yes, a crime was committed here in our home. A perfectly heinous and horrific crime. We’re all rattled. Any sane person would be. So I think it’s perfectly fine formeto do the soothing for a bit, Mom. We have to face what happened. Just like I had to face my illness, and we all had to face Falcon’s incarceration. We’ll face it head on, like we face everything else. And we can make it a heck of a lot easier if we support each other through it.”

Mom smiles then. “You amaze me, Raven. Such internal strength you have.”

I walk toward her and give her a hug.

I hate to tell her that she’s wrong. She’s wrong about my internal strength. I won’t deny that I have it, but I don’t have any more than anyone else. I’ve just had to rely on mine more than the average person. Because when push comes to shove, you play the hand you’re dealt. To do anything else would be to give up.

And Bellamys don’t give up.

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