Page 10 of Dust to Dust

“But your scholarship?—”

“Became invalidated after I took that semester off after the accident.”

Brooke gasped. “You never told me that.”

“Since you’d just broken up with Brad after finding out you were pregnant, I didn’t want to worry you.”

“Dammit, Isla, I don’t want you keeping secrets from me.”

“I was only trying to protect you.”

“I don’t want to be protected—I want to be there for you like you have for me.”

A sad smile curved on my lips. “You know I couldn’t make it without you.”

“Then shoot straight with me. How bad is it?”

I exhaled a ragged breath. “As you know, Mom and Dad did well, but they weren’t exactly financially secure.”

While my dad was a minister, my mom was an insurance adjuster. Five years ago, however, her health had deteriorated with a diagnosis of Rheumatoid Arthritis. She wasn’t considered sick enough for disability, so when she was forced to quit work, it ate into what savings they had.

“But they had life insurance,” Brooke protested.

I nodded. “It paid off the remainder of the mortgage, so we’ll always have this house. It also left us both small savings.” With a sigh, I said, “The reason I’m auditioning for Alainn is because graduate school is expensive, and I’ve long since run out of my savings.”

“Then take mine.”

“Absolutely not! That’s for you.” I jerked my chin at Henry who she bounced on her knee. “Not to mention him.”

“You can pay me back when you’re making the big bucks as a molecular biologist.”

With a laugh, I replied, “That could take years.”

“I trust you.”

I shook my head. “It’s not happening.”

Brooke glared at me. “You’d rather take your clothes off than take my money?”

“You’re my baby sister. I could never take anything from you.” With a smile, I reached over to take Henry from her. “Except maybe him.”

As I snuggled Henry close to me, his tiny lips quirked up. “Your Auntie Isla would do anything for you and your mommy.” When I glanced at Brooke, tears shone in her eyes. Reaching for her hand, I said, “Like Mom always said, we’re putting the cart before the horse. Just because I got an audition, it doesn’t mean I’ll get the job.”

“You will,” she lamented.

“How can you say that?”

After swiping the tears from her eyes, she replied, “Besides being a phenomenal dancer and amazing at the pole, you’re exactly what their clients want.”

“A busty scientist whose idea of a good time is curling up with a medical journal and a mug of Earl Grey tea?” I teasingly asked.

Brooke snorted. “You’re the Madonna Whore.”

My eyes bulged. “Excuse me?”

With an exasperated huff, Brooke said, “Yet another reason why I can’t believe you’re considering stripping.” When I maturely stuck my tongue out at her, she replied, “Let’s put it this way: you’re their lady in the streets and their freak in the sheets.”

Warmth flooded my cheeks at the allusion. “I don’t know about that.”

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