Page 159 of Slumming It

"Onyou?" I challenged.

He laughed. "What, you're calling my bluff?"

"Yes." I lifted my chin. "I don't think you have the report at all."

Silently, he turned and stalked toward the room that he'd been using as an office. He emerged a moment later with a yellowed sheet of paper, folded many times over. He shook it open and wordlessly dropped it onto the coffee table only inches away from those two photos.

I moved closer to stare. The documentlookedlike a police report, but it's not like I was an expert. My gaze zoomed in on the signatures. The document was signed by both of my parents.

And it wasn't.

I looked back to Reese. "Those aren't even their signatures."

"Yeah, right."

"They're not," I insisted.

He gave me a skeptical look. "And you know this, how?"

"Because I've seen their signatures a million times." I turned toward the photo I'd pulled from my mom's album. The caption was still attached, and I pointed to it now. "See that.That'smy mom's handwriting. It's loopy and fun." I pointed to the police report. "Thatsignature looks nothing like it."

Reese had no reaction – no twitch or flinch – or any sign that he'd heard what I'd just said.

I made a sound of disgust. "You know, withyourkind of money, it seems like you would've checked. But no. Notyou."

He said nothing, but his jaw looked tight enough to shatter.

And now, I was on a roll. "No, whatyoudo is lug around this stupid piece of paper for how long? Twenty freaking years? And you never once have it verified? What the hell is wrong with you, anyway? You wanna know whatIthink?"

He still remained silent.

ButIdidn't. "I think that whole police report's a fake."

At this, he might've flinched a little. I wasn't quite sure, but I still kept on going. "Fake," I repeated. "A sham, a phony, just like me as your fucking girlfriend. So I guess you'd know all aboutthat, huh?"

When hestillsaid nothing, I turned toward the door. "You know what? I'm done."

Finally, he spoke. "Where are you going?"

I turned back and threw up my hands. "Where do you think? I'm leaving. That's what you want, isn't it? Well, good. Because that's whatIwant, too."

Was I lying?

Yes.

And no.

At that particular moment, I had no idea who he was – and not because he had two different names. It was because he felt like a total stranger even as he said, "You're not leaving alone."

"Oh, yeah? Why not?"

He glanced toward the door. "Because it's not safe."

"It's lot safer than I am withyou."I wasn't talking physically. I was talking emotionally. Buthedidn't need to know that. So instead, I turned and marched toward the door, leaving both pictures behind for him to burn or give to Rita or lug around for twenty more years, for allIcared.

But when I reached the door, Reese was right there beside me. I turned to glare up at him. "You don't need to walk me out, if that's what you're planning."

His voice was cold and curt. "That's not what I'm doing."