Page 56 of Justice

The driver dropped the girls off a little after four. Dream came flying up the walk and threw herself into Rita’s lap without breaking stride. Storie came in behind her at her own pace, backpack over one shoulder, and walked right past both of us without a single word.

We settled around the kitchen island with a bowl of fruit and some crackers between us, and for a minute it was quiet enough to almost feel normal.

Then Dream, swinging her feet off the barstool, looked over at her sister’s wrist. “I want something of mommy’s too. Why did daddy give that to you and not me?”

Storie didn’t even look up from her phone. “Well, mommy loved me more. She knew me longer. Duh.”

“Storie!” Rita and I shouted it at the exact same time.

Dream’s face fell in on itself.

“What? It’s true.” Storie set the phone down, entirely unbothered. “She did know me longer. And when you know someone longer, you will obviously grow more love for them. Also, Daddy already said when I’m older I get to pick whatever I want of hers first. Dream gets whatever’s left over that I didn’t want.”

“Storie.” I said it flat. “Stop being mean to your sister.”

“What?!” She rounded on me like I’d swung.

“Stop being mean to your sister,” I said again, slower.

“You are not my mother,” she said, “no matter how much daddy likes putting his thing in you.”

The kitchen went dead silent.

“Little girl!” Rita’s hand shot out and closed around Storie’s arm, and Storie ripped it away hard enough to knock a cracker off the counter.

She stomped up the stairs without another word, and slammed the door hard enough to rattle the light fixture in the hallway.

Dream, small and still processing, turned her wide eyes up at me. “What did Daddy put in you?”

I changed the subject so fast I nearly gave myself whiplash, something about ice cream and whether we had any left in the freezer, and Dream’s face brightened right back up like the last two minutes had never happened.

Over the top of her head, Rita caught my eye.

And winked.

29

JUSTICE

I got home a little past seven and found Storie in the kitchen with her sleeves pushed up, wiping down counters. The house was quiet, everybody tucked off in their own corner of it. Skye and Dream were out back with Midnite, I could hear Dream laughing through the window over the sink.

“Look at you,” I said, dropping my keys on the counter. “Since when you clean up without being asked?”

“I clean, Daddy. I’m only doing this because Skye missed a few spots. We have to keep this place pristine. Otherwise, someone could get sick,” she said with a smirk.

I didn’t miss the little dig at Skye, but I brushed it off. That caused me to make a mental note to call a few therapists that Sloane had suggested to me. I could tell that Storie was trying to change her attitude but there was still something going on. I couldn’t let all of my business endeavors make me ignore my child’s needs.

“Thank you for cleaning it up. How was school? I like that I haven’t received any calls in a while.”

“It was good. My report card comes out soon and I think you’ll be very proud of me,” she said but then her mood dipped. I watched her eyes glaze to the side.

“What’s wrong?” I asked, prepared for her to tell me something bad about school.

“I don’t think Skye likes me very much.”

Fuck. Why would she say that? I hadn’t noticed Skye being hostile towards her whenever I was around. But I needed to take Storie’s word seriously. I didn’t want her to think that I didn’t care about her. I’d talk to her later about it.

“Skye likes you a lot, baby girl.”