Page 134 of Trust No One

She twisted her face up to mine. “But what if he doesn’t?”

My smile didn’t feel real. “I’ll make him.”

“He’s big. Better call the sheriff. He’s bigger.”

Out of the mouths of children. I glanced at the clock. We’d been sleeping an hour. As tempting as it was to call Judson, I didn’t want to depend on him. “Sounds like a plan.”

“I have to pee,” Molly said.

After the toilet flushed and she washed her hands, I took her pink hairbrush off the dresser, brushed her hair and mine, and then we headed downstairs. We found Ken in the kitchen.

There was a big bag of fresh bagels on the counter, along with tubs of cream cheese and a carton of juice.

“Thought you might be hungry,” he said. “And I guessed the refrigerator might be empty.”

Several years of living with me had taught him that I wasn’t good about remembering food. “Molly, these look pretty good.”

“I’ve had three,” Ken offered. “Do you want a bagel?”

Tension rippled through her body. She looked up at me, and I nodded. She moved toward a barstool, and I helped her up on the seat. I set a plate, a bagel, and some cream cheese in front of her.

Ken held up a plastic knife and an open tub of cream cheese. “Do you want to spread, or do you want me to?”

“Me.”

“I thought so,” he said. “You’re a big girl.”

He handed her the plastic knife. “Juice?”

“Yes, please.”

Ken grabbed a coffee mug and filled it halfway with juice. “You really are pretty grown up, aren’t you, Molly?”

“I know.” The child spoke with a bravado mirroring Maria’s bold confidence.

He set the mug in front of her. “Coffee for kids. You can drink your juice like a grown-up.”

A faint smile flickered on Molly’s lips. I could tell she was slightly charmed by Ken. He was hard to resist when his light and attention shone on you. He could make the world a better place. And when the light went dark, the loneliness cut deep.

Molly set about spreading a thick layer of cream cheese over her bagel. That gave me a chance to brew a pot of coffee. “Molly, I’m going to stand on the back porch. Call me if you need me.”

Cream cheese encircled her lips. “Okay.”

She sounded calm enough, but I caught her reflection in the glass panels of the back door. She was watching me closely. I made a point to pause outside by the window. As I expected, Ken followed, a coffee in his hand. He was making himself at home, as if he hadn’t gotten the memo that there wasn’t an us anymore. This wasn’t his house, and my life no longer intersected with his.

Ken walked past me to the railing and stared out over the fields. “I forgot how stunning this land is.”

“Yes, it is.”

He sipped his coffee. “Have you scheduled the funerals?”

“No date or time yet. But I’ve talked to the funeral home.”

“How’re you going to handle it?”

He’d been like this after my attack. Taking charge, handling details. But strings always dangled close to Ken. “I’ll keep you posted.”

“Don’t be offended. I’m not taking over. But I was their friend, too. We all ran together in high school.”