There’s a knock on the door and breakfast arrives in the hands of a familiar face.
“Martina!” I blink in shock.
“Señorita.” Martina hustles inside, carrying heavy bags.
“Let me help you.” I grab one of the canvas bags from her and set it on the table.
Vi pokes her head out of her bedroom, sees our guest and hustles out. “Who’s this?”
“This is… uh… Dutch’s—”
“Maid.” Martina grins broadly and takes out containers of food on our tiny, linoleum-lined counter. “Although Finn always scolds me for saying that. Apparently, such a word is ‘problematic’. It is hard to keep up with what is problematic these days. Just call me Martina.”
Viola blinks.
So do I.
“Dutch said you need your vitamins, foods strong in protein and calcium.” Martina gestures to the spread. Confidently, she opens our cupboards, finds the spoon and fork drawer, and takes out cutlery. “So I made you eggs with cheese, salmon…”
Vi’s eyes meet mine. Her eyebrows touch her hairline as she mouths, “Salmon?”
“… and peanut butter French toast. Turkey bacon. It’s much healthier for you.” She points to another bowl filled with freshly sliced strawberries, kiwi, berries, papaya and mango. “Eat the fruits first. It is better for digestion.” She wipes her palms against her skirt. “Oh, what am I forgetting?”
“There’s more?” Vi chokes.
“Juice! Yes.” She uncaps a tall, stainless steel mug. The brand on the side makes my eyes water. This is a designer tumbler. Same as any other tumbler… except it goes for two hundred and fifty bucks.
I blink rapidly. “Martina, I’m so sorry.”
“Sorry for what?”
“Bothering you. I’ll ask Dutch not to do things like this again.”
“No, bother. No bother, señorita. I’m okay.”
“But—”
“Dutch, he is good boy. He never like a girl this much. I’m happy he’s smiling and worrying about you. It makes this heart very full.” She clutches her chest.
I cough. “I think you’re mistaken. Dutch and I aren’t together.”
“Of course.” Her smile freezes on her face. She stares at me like I’m talking another language. “Of course. The kids, they don’t date anymore, noh? It’s not cool to admit you love someone. Yes, yes. I understand.”
No, I don’t think she does. “We’re really not together.”
Martina grabs her purse and hurries toward the door. “You do not have to worry about washing the plates. Pack them back in the bag and set it outside your door. Someone will come to pick it up.”
“Wait.” I don’t know why I’m so desperate to convince her, but I find myself stalking her to the living room. “Did Dutch say we were together?”
“No, no, no.” She gives me a nervous smile.
I force myself to change gears. “Martina, before you go, there’s something I wanted to ask you.”
“What is it, señorita?”
“I heard you were at Redwood Prep the morning of the fire.”
At once, her face turns pale. She bats away a lock of her wavy hair. “I… need to go.”
“Go? All of a sudden?” I follow her to the door.
Martina quickens her steps like I’m a scary psychopath with a hacksaw. “Enjoy!”
It’s the last thing she says before she slips out of the apartment and slams the door shut. I stand in the silence, my mind churning.
According to Miss Jamieson, Martina was the one leaving The Kings’ practice room. Why did she look so guilty when I asked just now?
Was it because she played a part in setting the fire…
Or was she covering for the person who did?
“Oh my go—Cadence!”
I whirl around, alarmed, only to find my sister flopping back in the chair, her mouth full of food and her eyes bright.
“Can we have salmon every morning?”
“We can barely afford cereal and you’re talking about salmon.” I stomp to the kitchen-slash-dining room area.
My stomach growls. I haven’t eaten anything since dinner yesterday.
After grabbing a fork, I join my sister around the table and find myself—in the space of twelve hours—moaning because of Dutch Cross.
Again.
“Why is this so good?” I whimper as the fish melts in my mouth.
“I thought the cafeteria food at Redwood was amazing,” Vi admits.
I meet her eyes and nod. Ever since Dutch upgraded my meal card, I’ve been eating half of my meals, secretly shoving the rest into doggy bags and bringing food home for my sister to enjoy.
“But this,” Vi wipes away a tear, “this is heaven.”
“Don’t get used to it.”
She sticks out her tongue.
I keep eating, but the food turns to ash when I think about Jarod’s text.
He demanded evidence. What evidence? How can I bring evidence of something Dutch isn’t doing.
A sigh tears past my lips. I don’t think Dutch is the person Jarod believes he is, but I seriously doubt he’ll accept the excuse of ‘after playing a game of truth or strip, I verified your son is not a drug dealer’.
Does it matter what I bring him? I’m not that interested in being Jarod’s spy anyway. I’m only doing all this to sniff out his secrets for Jinx.
Viola starts laughing across the table.
I glance up at her. “What’s so funny?”
“It’s so weird. Martina said she made food ‘high in vitamins, protein and calcium.”
“Yeah, so?” I spear a strawberry with my fork.
“We’re learning about reproduction in biology right now,” she says, her mouth full. Using her fork, she points to the food. “Fish, turkey, eggs, beans, oatmeal…”
“What about it?”
“They’re all foods that help with a baby’s brain and heart development.”
“A baby?” Shock traces like lightning strikes against my skin.
“This breakfast would be perfect if you were pregnant.”
My fork drops out of my hand and clatters to the plate.
Vi frowns. “Are you okay?”
“Yeah, I’m fine,” I murmur.
But a sick, twisted fear rises to life in my stomach. I made a mistake by not using protection last night but, as my eyes sweep over the feast Martina brought, I wonder if all I did in that treehouse was play right into the monster’s hands.
Jinx: Don’t bother calling this number, New Girl. No voices. Text only.
Cadence: I’m going to end this. Tomorrow. You better be more specific about the dirt you want on Jarod Cross because after tomorrow, I won’t have anything to do with either of you.
Jinx: I’ll send you something to leave in his office.
Cadence: How will you send it to me?
Jinx: It’s a secret.
