“Jasmine,” Anthony said when he caught up to us. “What happened? One minute I’m editing your essay while you’re putting together welcome baskets for the new hires, and the next you’re gone.”
“Welcome baskets. Really?” my brother said with a snort.
“Sorry. Something…curse and case-related came up.” I glanced around us at the various officers working at their desks, and tried to look more relaxed than I felt. “How’d I do on the essay?”
“I’ll need to check your references but you followed the rubric well.” His scrunched brow broke my heart. “Is everything all right?”
“Yeah,” I said cheerfully, cutting Charlie off. “It’s late. Why don’t you head on home? We can pick up where we left off early tomorrow morning.”
Anthony put his hands on his hips and regarded me thoughtfully. “You’ve been awfully dismissive lately. Have I done something to offend you?”
Well, look at that. He just came right out and said it.
I swallowed hard. “No, Tony. I—” Glancing at Charlie, I said, “Could you give us a second?”
He shrugged. “Sure. I’ll see you downstairs.” Then he ambled over to the elevator.
I nodded toward the left most aisle between desks and the two of us started walking. “Sorry I’ve been so weird lately, but you had to have known this day would come sooner or later. I’m all grown up now. I’ve been able to take more and more classes online as they’ve become available. I have other teachers who can help me with my school work. I don’t need you as much as I used to.” I wrung my hands, averting my gaze. “Your boys on the other hand—”
“I knew seeing them had upset you,” he murmured with a shake of his head. “You don’t have to worry about them, Jazz. They understand the commitment I’ve made.”
“That’s what I’m trying to tell you. You don’t have to be so committed to this job anymore.”
He stopped walking to stare at me. I took a deep breath and faced his hurt expression head on.
“I don’t want you to feel like I’m chasing you away. You’re like a second father to me and I love you. I’m going to miss you always being around but I finally feel...sort of independent. It’s time for you to cut back on your hours.” I reached out to take one of his hands. “You understand, don’t you?”
He nodded slowly. “Yes, I suppose I do.” Clearing his throat, he carefully extracted his hand from mine. “I’ll talk to your uncle about creating a new schedule that meets your current needs.”
I’d hurt him. Dammit. Dammit! That wasn’t what I wanted at all. He’d spent all these years taking care of me. I just wanted to take care of him for once. But how could I explain it to him in a way that he would accept? He was always insisting he was fine.
“Thanks for understanding,” I said, my voice breaking.
He smiled, a painful, forced, horrible thing. “Of course. Should we head back downstairs?”
“Yeah. Okay.” I glumly followed him.
Chapter 28
Charles
Jasmine seemed sad after Anthony went home for the day. I was tempted to ask her about it but she kept her nose in Angela Smith’s diary for the rest of the evening.
I spent that time making something for Esmer. I wasn’t sure what I was doing, exactly. I just let my hands work. There were plenty of bamboo sheets in my storage area from a project I’d done several weeks ago; I used my rotary tool kit to cut out stars in various sizes. I looked up the sheet music for some of Esmer’s favorite songs and printed them using my sister’s printer. Jasmine had already brewed tea to sip while she was reading so I borrowed some to stain the music sheets. I used them to make roses. Putting my soldering torch to good use, I burned the edges of the petals. The last of my aluminum sheets were cut into music notes; I spray painted them black. While digging my hands through a crate of older crafting stuff, I unearthed a quilting ring from that weird phase in Jasmine’s life. It was sitting over a sheer white curtain and some thick black ribbons.
Suddenly, I knew what I was making for Esmer. My arms were heavy laden with the wooden hoop, the curtain, and the ribbons as I returned to my work station. It took time to thread the fishing line through the stars, the roses, and the music notes. I accidentally destroyed a few of the flowers. In the end, it worked out. I was proud of the finished product. Now all I needed to do was find a ceiling hook. I rooted around my random hardware drawer until I unearthed one big enough to suit my needs.
“I’m going out,” I told Jasmine, carefully folding my new creation into a spare cardboard box. It barely closed around the wooden ring.
“Okay,” she murmured, barely taking her eyes off of the leather-bound book in her hands. Whatever Angela Smith had written must’ve been good, but I wasn’t too curious.
That wasn’t true. I was curious but even more uneasy. All these years, I’d been happy to brand Death as a spiteful, otherworldly bitch with too much power and not enough creativity to put it to good use. But now I had to wonder...Were there others besides the Smiths? Was there a pattern to Death’s actions, maybe even a motive? Could there possibly be a way to reason with her, some hidden knowledge or leverage we could use to free us from this curse? It was a dangerous train of thought, one I wasn’t keen on exploring. It would be too devastating if it ended up leading nowhere.
I guess that’s why I’d been so hesitant to talk to the Smiths. They embodied hope, and hope promised a new kind of pain I didn’t want to experience. I’d resigned myself to this life. In my weakest moments, I’d fantasized about freeing
