Page 117 of Forgotten Sacrifice

“As soon as you went to the bathroom,” I admit.

He shakes his head with a smile. “Come on. I’ll take you.”

“Really? But you don’t think it’s a good idea.”

“Doesn’t matter what I think. Where to?”

I read him the address my mom sent me, and he waves us down a taxi. We crawl in the backseat, and Vince relays the address.

“You sure about that? It’s not somewhere I’d recommend for tourists,” our cab driver warns.

“We’re sure.” Vince squeezes my knee.

We leave the strip, entering a rough part of town and to an even rougher tenement apartment. I look over to Vince, who has a guarded expression.

He hops out and opens my door for me. “Need you to hang around. We’ll be finished?—”

“No fucking way I’m hanging in this neighborhood,” the cabbie says.

“I’ll pay you double if you stay.”

“Triple.”

Vince curses. “Triple.” Turning to me, he takes my hand. “Let’s go.”

Vince

I shield Luna against my body as I knock on the door.

A woman appears, and Luna gasps. It’s her mom, but the photo compared to the person standing in front of us is night and day. Ms. Barone’s a hundred pounds soaking wet, with deep smokers wrinkles, and those tell-tale methhead teeth. Latest possession charges are still pending, per the background report I ran on her.

“Luna,” she says, clutching her heart. She looks at me, a little flicker of annoyance she easily masks.

“Can we come in?” I ask. The longer we stand out here, the higher the odds someone attempts to mug us.

“Of course. Come in.”

We enter the apartment, with the haze of cigarette smoke filling the room. It’s tiny and run down, but somewhat orderly, with an oxygen machine prominently on display next to the couch.

“Is that yours?” Luna asks.

Her mom coughs as if on cue. “Yeah. I’m glad you came to see me. Got lung cancer, so it’s hard for me to be out and about with the chemo. Sit down, sit down.”

“I’m sorry to hear that. Which hospital do you receive your chemo treatments?” I glance to the kitchen, and Luna follows my gaze. I’m hoping she’ll notice there’s no prescription pill bottles lining the counter.

“Who are you?” Luna’s mom asks, quickly figuring out I’m going to be a problem.

I smile politely, envisioning snapping this woman’s neck. “A friend of Luna’s.”

“We’re not friends, Vince.” Luna turns to her mom. “He’s my manager.”

“Which hospital did you say?” I press.

“Oh, I go to the hospital a few miles from here. I catch the bus. It’s hard on my chemo days, but my car broke down, and I don’t have the money to get it fixed. Anyway, enough about me. Luna, I’m so proud of you. Saw on the news that you won the big chess competition today.”

“Thanks.” Luna shifts uncomfortably on the worn couch. “You’d mentioned in your message you wanted to talk about why you left me with dad,” she says.

Her mom coughs, a deep smoker’s cough that sounds like a lung might be expelled in the process. “I couldn’t take the abuse. I was going to come back and get you after I set myself up here in Vegas, but things didn’t work out like I’d hoped.”