Page 155 of Traces Of You

“Mother,” he said. Always Mother. Never Mom. NeverMommy.God forbid she relax and show any emotional happiness, loving gestures or words.

“Should you be calling during work hours?”

“I’m on break. I wanted to tell you that things are going well with Meredith. I helped her move boxes today.”

“She’s moving in with you?” A pause. “To your new house?”

“Eventually.”

Silence stretched slow and heavy.

“Karl, are you taking your medication?”

His teeth ground together, his fists clenching until his nails bit flesh. He forced a breath, then another before smoothing the edges of his movements. Always remain in control. Hismothertaught him that.

“You never trust me,” he said softly.

“You’ve given me reasons not to. You talk about Meredith constantly, yet I’ve never talked to her. Never seen a photo. I need to know she’s real. That this isn’t…like before.”

His lips curved as he reached for the keyboard and pulled up the feed of the camera he’d secretly planted. Meredith’s kitchen filled his monitor. There she was, pacing, throwing down a towel in frustration, her face flushed and wet with tears as her arms swung around her head in a tantrum.

He zoomed in, studying every line, every twitch of her mouth. She’d learn to temper those ugly outbursts in time. He’d make sure of it.

“Oh, she’s real,” he whispered, his lips curling in a smile. “And soon, she’ll be mine. Completely.”

ChapterOne

Provided Validation

Six WeeksLater

“Alright class,”Meredith said, her voice rising over the kids, her hands clapping for the extra attention she hoped to get. “Ten minutes left. It’s time to pick up.”

The fifteen kids in her class groaned, some whined, and two stomped their feet.

“No, Ms. Banks,” Ethan said. “I want to stay.”

“I’ll see you tomorrow,” she said, moving toward the table he was at with two other kids.

“Can we paint tomorrow too?” Abby asked.

“We’ll see,” she said, touching Abby lightly on the shoulder as she walked by.

The kids were dipping their paintbrushes in the water cups on their desk. She moved around and picked the cups up so they weren’t spilling them all over the floor. No reason to have the janitors upset with her.

“I had fun, Ms. Banks.”

“I’m glad, Macy.” She heard the belly rumble while she stood there. One week in and Macy seemed skinny to her. More than she should be.

They all had daily snacks in the morning and afternoon.

Macy was one kid that ate more than others. Meredith often snuck in some extra because the little girl wouldn’t ask.

At lunch yesterday, she sought out her new student to see what she had and it was the school lunch, which Macy gobbled up faster than anyone else.

“Everyone line up for dismissal.”

The kids got in line, some pushing the others out of the way. Poor Macy got shoved to the back without saying a word. Meredith was always one to zone in on who might be a target in her classroom.