Page 67 of No Judgements

“Mom?” I asked when she picked up.

She sounded like her usual self—her voice throaty from all the cigarettes she’d smoked before I was born, and still occasionally sneaked in times of stress. “Sabrina, finally. You don’t know what I’ve been going through these past twenty-four hours, not knowing whether you were dead or alive.”

“Mom, it hasn’t even been twenty-four hours since the storm hit.”

“You know what I mean. Where are you? Who are these people you’re staying with? How are they treating you?”

“They were treating me just fine until you had to go and call the governor and make him send the sheriff over here and blow my cover. No one here knew I was your daughter until then.”

“Why? What do you mean? Oh my God, Bree.” She lowered her voice. “Have you been kidnapped? Are they listening in? Just say yes or no.”

“Mom, no, don’t be ridiculous. It’s the opposite, in fact.”

“What does that mean?”

“It means that unlike you, Mother, I wasn’t asking for special treatment. But now my hostess has moved all my stuff into her best guest room. She’s practically falling over herself to be nice to me. Not that she wasn’t nice before, but now I’ve got an en suite bathroom all to myself... and my cat.”

“Well, what’s wrong with that?”

“Mom, don’t you get it? I want people to like me for me, not because I’m Judge Justine’s daughter.”

“Peopledolike you for you, Sabrina. You’re a kind, smart, pretty girl. And if my being who I am happens to help...well, what’s so wrong with that? Why, those people ought to show a little gratitude to you. It’s because of me that the longest runway at the Little Bridge airport is going to be cleared as soon as tomorrow.”

It took a second for that to register. “What?”

“That’s right. The governor has promised that even if they can’t get anything else done, that, at least, will be finished as a special favor to me, and your uncle Steen swears he’s going to have a plane there ready to pick you up—”

“Mom.” I cringed. “No. I don’t want that. I mean, yes, the runway is nice, the people here need it. But do not send a plane for me.”

“Sabrina, have you lost your mind? The governor says they don’t expect to have that bridge fixed or power or cell service up and running there for at least another week!”

“I know, Mom, but I’ve got everything I need.”

“Sabrina, don’t be ridiculous. The governor tells me there isn’t a functioning hospital down there for a hundred miles. What if something should happen to you? You could step on a nail and get lockjaw, or something. No, it’s simply too dangerous. Steen and I are coming down there as soon as the runway is cleared, and that’s all there is to it.”

I felt as if someone had poured a cold beer down my back. “Mom, no. Do not come here.”

“Well, someone has to, honey. If you don’t have the common sense to get out of there, then—”

“Mom. You can clear all the runways you want—I’m sure everyone will appreciate it. But I’m not leaving.”

“Sabrina. Look. I understand that you’re still angryabout your father and me not telling you about your donor mother. And you have a right to be. But haven’t you punished me enough? Isn’t it about time that you let that go? This is a very dangerous situation, and—”

“I know it is, Mom. And I swear to you that my not wanting to leave yet has nothing to do with you not telling me about my donor mother.”

“It doesn’t?”

“No, of course not. I’m not even angry with you about that anymore. I’m mad that you didn’t believe me about Kyle—”

“Oh, honey, I told you, I believed you. I just think you overreacted. You know, I was at a Christmas party once with the president of AMC Radio, and you wouldn’t believe where he put his—”

“Mom, I’m sorry, but I don’t want to talk about any of that right now. I actually do need your help. Just not the kind of help you’re offering.”

“Well, what kind of help do you need, then?”

“I need you to go online—since I can’t, because we don’t have the Internet—and post a message to every social media outlet that you can think of that anyone who’s evacuated from Little Bridge Island and left a pet behind needs to contact your office. Tell them to call your office and leave their name, address, type of pet, the pet’s needs, and a way we can get into their home. Make sure they don’t post this information online—they have to leave it verbally with whoever picks up at your office when they call. If there really are looters, we don’t want them knowing which housesare sitting empty and how to break into them. These people have to feel that their private information is safe with you. Then I’ll call you back in a little while to get the data you’ve collected, and we can go from there.”

There was silence on the other end of the phone. I waited tensely until finally my mother said, “Sabrina. What are you talking about?”