“Not really. Prisoners have a strict routine and they’re confined to a small cell for most of the day.”
“Okay, okay, I get it. Boy, you really are a stickler, aren’t you?”
He raised an eyebrow. “I’ve been called worse.”
She put an index finger on her lips, as if recalling a fact. “I know. I seem to remember somebody calling you old and stupid recently.”
He laughed.
“I’m sorry about that,” Lilly said. “Astrid sometimes lashes out when she’s afraid or unsure. She doesn’t mean any harm. Do you think you could cut her some slack?”
“I’ll try,” he said, knowing that he would struggle to do so. “She can call me as many names as she likes, but you know how I feel about following rules.”
“Yes, I do. Even though I only met you a few hours ago, I feel like I understand you perfectly.”
He wasn’t sure whether this was a good or bad thing. “And how are you holding up, Lilly?”
Moisture collected in her eyes and she took a sharp intake of breath. “I keep thinking about how close I came to death this morning. What would Astrid do without me? Who would look after her? It’s terrifying to think about what might happen.”
He heard a quiver in her voice and realized that she was trembling, so he put both hands on her shoulders to comfort her.
“You’ll get through this, I promise.”
“I don’t want Astrid to see me scared,” she whispered, leaning into him, wafting a perfume of spiced vanilla. “Can you distract her for a couple minutes while I compose myself?”
He gave one shoulder a squeeze and left her side.
“Hi, Astrid,” he said, picking up her suitcase in the hallway. “You look nice.”
She rolled her eyes. “I look like a norm.”
“A norm?”
“A norm is a normal person. A person like you.”
“Oh, right.” This was awkward. “Thanks for the compliment.”
She tugged at the sweatshirt. “I hate this stuff. I’m just glad that my friends can’t see me right now. I mean, who wears sneakers unless they’re running?”
At that moment, Astrid reminded him so much of Chloe at the same age, obsessed with her image and the judgment of others. He had tried to placate his daughter at the time, tell her it didn’t matter what her friends might think, offer her an alternative viewpoint. He wasn’t going down that road again.
“Plenty of people wear sneakers,” he said. “That’s the whole point. You need to look like everyone else, so I want to see you in sneakers all the time, okay?”
She put one hand on a jutted-out hip. “Don’t you ever get tired of being right?”
“Not usually.”
Astrid’s gaze slid past his, toward the open door of the living room, and landed on her mother.
“Is Mom okay?” she asked. “She looks nervous.”
“She’s doing fine.” Lilly obviously had an astute appreciation of the danger they were facing, whereas Astrid had somehow managed to overlook the fact that a gunman fired a shot at them this morning. “She’s just worried about you.”
Astrid’s expression softened. “Mom worries all the time, about lots of things. She worries about my grades and my confidence and my friends and my future. She never seems to worry about herself.”
“That’s the life of a parent, Astrid,” he said. “Your mother’s job is to make sure you’re safe and secure all the time. Nobody in the world will ever love you like your parents.”
Her softened expression now became hard again, eyes narrowing and lips pinching. “What do you know?” she said, turning her back on him. “You’re no expert.”
While David stood in bewilderment, wondering what on earth he’d said to provoke such a reaction, Goldie came in through the front door and closed it behind her.
“I’ve scoped out the street and the car,” she said. “It’s all clear.”
She then clearly noticed Astrid leaning against the wall, stone-faced and silent, arms wrapped round her waist. The older woman immediately enveloped the teenager in a hug and whispered some words of comfort, assuming she was anxious about the risky situation. Goldie was a tough cookie on the outside but loving and warm inside, a trait that had come in handy numerous times when dealing with nervous clients, and David was thankful for it now.
While Astrid was being soothed by Goldie, he approached Lilly.
“I think I upset Astrid,” he said. “I’m sorry. I’m not what sure what I said, but Goldie’s with her now so she’s doing fine.”
“Did you mention her father?”
“Ah.” Now it became clearer. “Not exactly, but I might have implied that both her parents love her.”
Lilly lightly brushed his arm. “It’s not your fault. It’s a touchy subject. Astrid’s father hasn’t seen her in over two years and it upsets her that he doesn’t even try to make contact. She blames me for it. I wish I could make Rylan see what a beautiful daughter he has, but he never seems to listen.”
David shook his head. How could a father sleep at night without checking that his little girl was secure and safe? How could a man be so weak and selfish? He felt a new level of respect for Lilly for stepping up and attempting to provide the stability that her daughter badly needed.
“It’s tough being a single parent, huh?” he said.
She rubbed her temples over the silky blond strands. “The toughest job in the world. Are you speaking from experience?”
“My wife, Carla, died fifteen years ago, when our daughters were only six and ten years old. I raised them alone.”
“I’m so sorry,” Lilly said with sincerity. “That must’ve been hard on all of you.”
“It was,” he said, reminded of the dark days that had followed the loss of his wife, of the constant fear that he would not be able to fill a mother’s shoes. “It’s not easy being both mom and dad. There’s nobody to pass the baton to when you’re at the end of your rope.”
“I hear you.”
He dropped his voice. “Teenagers can be especially rebellious, and that’s when being a single parent really tests your character. You have to stand firm and be the boss.”
“Is that what you did?”
“That’s what I should’ve done.” The regrets never stopped tumbling through his mind. “And I just wanted to give you the benefit of my parenting experience.”
“Thank you,” she said, skirting past him. “I’ll bear it in mind.”
But he knew she wouldn’t. As she went to her daughter and hugged her tenderly, he saw that she was a parent who would struggle to implement the tough love approach. Astrid could pout and cry and get away with doing whatever she wanted, even if it meant going to a party with her drunk and reckless boyfriend. Just one small decision could wreak untold consequences.
And Lilly had no idea of the terrible choices that a teenage mind could make.
“We’re leaving now,” Lilly said, removing one of her daughter’s earbuds. “You need to turn off your music and keep your wits about you.”