Page 4 of Nothing to Fear

Again, just like that. Either he was super genuine or the answer was rehearsed. That edge to his voice intrigued her again.

“How do you know? How do you know you can help me?”

“What makes you think I can’t?”

“Now who’s bouncing questions back?”

“Why did you pick up the phone tonight? It’s late. You couldn’t sleep?”

“Sleep’s been a problem all my life. For as long as I can remember anyway. When I was a kid, our house was burglarized,” she said. “I didn’t see the guy, but just knowing he’d been there, taking our things, touching them…”

“You felt violated.”

“I was a kid.”

“Children understand more than society gives them credit for, just like you said.”

“We moved and—we didn’t have a lot of money. No insurance, so no replacement anything. Took us a long time to build everything back up again.”

“How did that feel?”

“Great, until the fire.” Licking her lips, she extended her arm again. “I’d say bad luck doesn’t follow a person, or a family, but with us, it was always one thing after another. My mom is a professional victim and is always looking for someone to bail her out. She has the routine down to a tee. Taught it to my sisters too.”

“Skipped you?”

“I’m the youngest.”

“So that means…?”

“There wasn’t enough to go around?” she hazarded in humor. “I’m not a great victim, but calamity follows me everywhere.”

“More bad luck?”

“Do you believe in fate?”

“Do I…? I don’t know, do you?”

Her shoulders rose and she swayed sideways, lying on the couch, legs still folded, but now propped on the arm. “We weren’t raised religious… unless it suited the cause. A lot of charities are religion affiliated. Is there a higher power? A god? Maybe. Maybe not. It can’t all mean nothing, can it?”

“It?”

“Experience. Life. Everything we go through.”

“It makes us who we are.”

“Right,” she said, sitting upright quick. “Exactly. Everything we’ve ever done, said, seen, it’s brought both of us to this moment right now, to this call, to this conversation, to each other.”

“Why did it do that?”

She winced. “And that’s the problem.” Slumping again, she took her cord coiled arm to her forehead and closed her eyes. “I have no idea. Everything happens for a reason. What that reason is… isn’t always clear.”

“If I’m confused about where I am or why, I retrace my steps.” Logical. “Narrow that wide focus. Why did you call tonight?”

“Because I was tired of staring at the ceiling wondering why.”

“Why?”

“I follow the path, the signs, I give fate the reins and I trust that.” Did she? “I try to trust that.”

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