Page 89 of Power
I open my eyes and step back. “Are you sure you’re not FBI? Who thinks of things like that?”
She taps her nose and smiles. “I got you covered, girl. If you need to stop for gas, try to do it while it’s daylight. I’ll give you a hat you can wear with your glasses, and hopefully no one will recognize you.”
“You’re scaring the shit out of me, Tash.”
“I own a bookstore, I read a lot of crime and thriller books. And romance,” she quickly adds before shaking her hand at me. “I’m glad I like my crime and thriller books now.”
“What about romance?”
“Oh, I’m living vicariously through them. Maybe one day, I’ll be swept off my feet by my brother’s best friend.” I screw my nose up at her. “Not that I have a brother.” Tash shrugs. “But you have to leave. Like right now.”
“Mom,” Emily says.
“I’m gonna miss you, squirt.” Tash walks over to Emily, envelops her in a hug and plants kisses all over Emily’s face.
“Aren’t we coming back?” Emily asks. Her brown eyes fill with tears as I see pain coursing through her.
“We will, just not for a little while.”
“Mommy, what’s going on?” Emily asks from the safety of Tash’s arms.
I flick my gaze to Tash before settling a loving look on Emily. “I’ll explain in the car.”
“Okay, I’ll see you both real soon.” Tash kisses Emily on the head, before she walks us to the front door and opens it. She checks and gives me the thumbs up.
Handing me the fob to her car, I pick up the bags and walk toward her car. I look over my shoulder at Tash and can feel my own tears threatening to fall. “We’re taking Tash’s car, Emily.”
“Why?”
I unlock the car and place our bags on the back seat. “Come on.” Emily sits in the front and buckles in. Once we’re away from Tash’s house, I try to prepare myself for the conversation we’re about to have.
“What about school?”
“You’re no longer going to that school.”
“Why?”
“The principal called and said you can’t attend anymore.”
“What?” her little voice breaks my heart. “Did I do something wrong?”
“No!” I reply, still furious over the hypocrisy. “No, you didn’t.”
“Then why can’t I go back? What did I do? Can I be better?”
“Emily, it’s because of me.”
There’s a long pause as she stares out the front window. “You? Did you say something mean?”
“No, not at all.”
“I don’t understand what’s happening, Mom. What did you do to make the principal say I can’t go back? Did you do something to him?”
“Not directly to him.”
“Mommy,” her voice trembles. “I don’t understand.”
I take a deep breath, trying to find the right words. But, there aren’t any right words. “Emily, do you know what a prostitute is?”
