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“Talk to me. Where’s your head?” I asked.

She started laughing. “It’s just sad. I need help to handle my own mother.”

“Have you ever called her out on the way she treats you?”

“What am I supposed to say? ‘Hey, Mom. You suck at this. Love me more. For once, put me first. Make five minutes about me instead of always making it about you. Hear me. Damn it, just look at me.’ ”

“You could start there.”

“There’s no point.” Hallie threw up her hands. “She’ll never hear it.”

“Maybe it’s more important simply to say it.”

“Right.” Her expression closed in on itself. “If you want the Hourglass here, you’re going to have to ask Dad.”

“Don’t change the subject.”

She gave my floor a good stare-down. “Do you know how demeaning it feels to talk about how little your own parent cares for you? Especially to someone who matters?”

“Nothing you ever say should make you feel that way.” I lifted her chin with my hand, saw the emotional wound in her eyes. It wasn’t the kind she could heal in a second. “Especially since I care about you, too.”

“You mean that.”

“I do. I want you to believe it.”

“You’re doing a good job of proving it.” She rose up on her tiptoes and pressed her lips to mine. “And you haven’t even been trying.”

“I hope I’m around to try later. ’Cause now I have to talk to your dad.”

As we approached Hallie’s house, I didn’t know if I was more afraid of pissing off Paul Girard or pissing on myself.

“I’ll be right there.” She pointed to her dance studio. “I’ll leave my phone on in case you need a lift to the hospital.”

“You aren’t helping.”

“I wasn’t trying to. I don’t want you to sustain injury.” She held up crossed fingers, and then she was gone.

I wished I’d added another swipe of deodorant as I walked to Girard’s office and knocked on the open door. “Sir? I’d like a minute, if you have one?”

“Come in.”

I handed over the crystal ball we’d stolen from the hotel.

He nodded and put it on his desk. “No problems?”

“No, sir.” I didn’t move.

“Is there something else?”

“Yes, sir.” I didn’t mean to blurt it out, but my mouth had other ideas. “I want to bring in some of my friends—colleagues—from the Hourglass.”

He studied me for a second. “Can’t handle this by yourself?”

“It’s not that.” I pulled at the collar of my shirt, and then dropped my hands, trying for confident body language. I just needed my armpits to agree. “There was a development last night. A serious one.”

I explained the possessions and watched him pale.

“Is my daughter all right?” he demanded, standing up and starting for the door.

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