Page 47 of Hell to Pay

“Lilah.” My name sounded impersonal in her mouth, like she was saying the wordcatortree.

“Hi, Mom.”

“Is he with you?”

“No.” (Save me, Lord, from lying lips and from deceitful tongues…)“But I know he left the house tonight.”

The prayers that had been drilled into me since I was a kid — prayers against lying and stealing and swearing and pretty much anything a person could do just being a person — had been coming less and less frequently, but they still popped up sometimes when I least expected them.

She sniffed. “I don’t know why he’d callyou.”

“I’m his sister,” I said. “I know you wish that didn’t mean anything, but it does.”

“He has to come home. He’s sixteen.”

“He needs some space, Mom.”

“It doesn’t matter what he thinks he needs. I am his mother. I know what he needs.”

I stifled my frustration. Maybe if she cared about what he needed — what we both needed — she wouldn’t be in this situation. “I know you believe that, but Matt’s not a kid anymore. He might not be an adult, but he’ll be one soon. He’s going to have to learn to trust himself, not take all his cues from you or somebody else.”

“‘Trust in the Lord with all your heart and lean not on your own understanding; in all your ways submit to him, and he will make your paths straight,’” she intoned.

“Quoting Bible verses isn’t the way to connect with someone, Mom.” I was annoyed, so I was surprised by the softness of my own voice.

I was angry, but also… sad. Really sad.

“If any of you lacks wisdom, you should ask God, who gives generously to all without finding fault, and it will be given to you.”

Oh for fuck’s sake.

“Shouldn’t you trust God too, Mom?”

“I trust in the Lord with all my heart,” she said piously, echoing the Bible verse. “You should know that. I’ve given my life to him, my children.”

“Except we’re not yours to give. You’ve made your choices, and that’s fine, but Matt and I get to make our own. If you don’t give him some room, you’re going to lose him for good.”

Like you lost me.

I didn’t say it because I knew it wouldn’t matter.

“And if I don’t keep him on God’s path, I’ll lose him to the devil.”

This time I heard her unspoken words:like I lost you.

“You didn’t lose me to the devil, Mom. I left because it was all just… too much. You made it too much. I felt like I was in a prison, like I was drowning?— ”

“That’s because of what those boys did to you,” she hissed.

I forced myself to breathe, to stay calm. “No. That hurt. It was humiliating. But if you’d only understood, if you’d said one kind thing to me, one generous thing, I would have been okay. You didn’t give me room to be human, and since I couldn’t be anything but that, I figured there was no point sticking around and trying to make you happy.”

We weren’t talking about what had happened at Brandon Miller’s party anymore — we were talking about what had happened after. About what had landed me in Oak Hill.

She was quiet for so long I thought maybe she’d hung up.

“He’s safe? With friends?”

“Yes.” Lying still — after all these years — made me burn with shame, but there was no way around it this time, no way to tell the truth and protect Matt. Because letting him stay with friends (did he have friends? I wasn’t sure) was one thing — letting him stay with his prodigal sinning sister was something else.

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