Page 20 of Captured Immune

“Are you off today?” I ask, desperate to change the subject.

“My nanny family is on vacation right now, and I don’t work at the daycare anymore.”

“Why not?”

She stares at her lap as she picks at her fingernails. “They, um, let me go.”

“What for?” Arella works hard, and she’s great with kids. I can’t imagine why they’d fire her.

“Overstaffed,” she says coolly. “I was just one of the many people they chose to cut.”

Overstaffed?I thought they wereunderstaffed. At least, that’s what I gathered from the many conversations I overheard between her and Javina. Either way, if Arella’s down a job, that means she needs money.

Wait...Is that why she came home early that day? Was that the day they fired her? No wonder she told me to pay child support. She’s gonna need it. But what about the father of her child? Shouldn’t he be—Oh no.

My heart sinks into my stomach. “Is he staying with you... and the—um, baby?”

She keeps picking at her fingernails like there’s something stuck under there when I know there isn’t. Patiently, I wait for an answer. It never comes.

“Arella?”

She still doesn’t look at me.

I lean in closer to her. “Arella, please, tell me he’s planning to take care of you.”

A single teardrop rolls down her cheek as she sucks in a deep breath. She wipes it away with the back of her hand. “No, he’s not.”

“That son of a bitch.” Nothing could ever get me to leave my child. Not money. Not a death threat. Nothing. Growing up without parents is something I’d never wish on anyone.

I was the kid who got stuck hearing about all the presents the other kids woke up to on Christmas mornings. All I ever woke up to was another day of wishing my parents weren’t dead. Other kids had things like family dinners and birthday parties. I had an abusive uncle who banished me to my room just for breathing the wrong way. Other kids spent their childhoods riding bikes and playing video games. I spent mine doing odd jobs so I could make enough money to buy myself new clothes. A hard life is not what I want for this child.

I have to do something. “Go get me your bank account and routing number.”

Arella’s face crumples. “Why?”

“I’ll send you some money.” Ten grand should be enough, right? How about fifty? I know nothing about how much it costs to raise a child. A hundred grand? A million?

Last week, in the heat of the moment, I told Arella she wouldn’t be getting a dime from me to support another man’s child. Now here I am, about to transfer her a million dollars. I guess her scheme worked. Pretend not to want my money, with hopes that I’ll hand it over myself.Genius.I don’t even care. I’ll sleep better knowing she’s got enough to take care of herself and this baby.

“I don’t want your money,” she says.

“What?” I expected her to jump up to retrieve those bank numbers for me. “Arella, you’re down a job, expecting an infant, and that good-for-nothing girlfriend thief has run away. What the hell are you gonna do?”

“I’ll figure it out. I always have.”

“Just go get me those numbers.” I wave a shooing hand at her, then I grab my phone off the coffee table. I’ve already got my online bank account username typed in when she crosses her arms over her chest.

“I said I don’t want your money.”

I swear this woman makes it a point to be difficult. My tone comes out rough. “If you’re not gonna accept it for yourself or the baby, then do it for me. I promise you, there are no strings att?—”

“I said no.”

I groan and chuck my phone back onto the table. “You don’t make any sense. Why would you screw around, get pregnant, try to convince me it’s mine, then refuse to accept any money? What are you trying to gain?”

“Nothing.”

I’m losing my mind. “Is this some kind of sick game to you? Playing with my heart?”

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