Page 102 of The Truth of Our Secrets

But Emmet’s mom’s trailer has dilapidated siding and weeds everywhere.

“I’ve tried to fix it up, but there’s never enough time or money.” Emmet’s elbow is on the window looking out as Jayce parks the car and turns it off.

He doesn’t move to find out what’s going on. Usually, he’s the first to jump in, but I guess I don’t understand how hard this is for him.

He unwinds his arm from around me and slowly pushes the door open. Jayce gets out and offers him a hand. Emmet blinks up at him and takes it.

The steps are wobbly and Emmet opens the door, calling, “Mom?”

He has to shove the door because there’s a stack of boxes in the way.

“Emmet! I’m so glad you’re here. I got the order from the nice man you sent to talk to me.” There isn’t room for us to enter the trailer yet, but she’s so excited it’s pitiful.

My heart rate kicks up as I process his mother’s greeting. All my senses scream with foreboding.

“Mom, I didn’t send anyone to talk to you. Tell me what’s in the boxes.” Emmet’s calm and patient.

“All the things to help my mind and cure me. I thought you’d be happier about it. Peter said the company guarantees success.”

I finally bulldoze my way into the trailer, and it’s a mess. Dishes, clothes, and garbage everywhere. And unopened boxes in every available space.

“How much did you spend?” he asks in a voice so small, I want to steal him away.

“Oh, don’t worry about that. Peter helped me open an account so I can pay as little as I want. Honey, aren’t you happy?” His mom has the same brown eyes, but they’re flat, almost lifeless.

“Where’s the paperwork?” Emmet’s teeth clench.

“In the sink,” she says as if it’s a normal place to keep paperwork.

Emmet reaches over and scans the paperwork. His brow furrows, he pales, and his entire body radiates stress.

“Fuck!” he shouts, startling us all.

His chest heaves, and he’s on the brink of a breakdown.

“Mom! You spent four thousand dollars on a credit card with thirty percent interest.” He wants to pace, but there’s no room. I don’t know what to do for him.

“But Peter said—”

“I’m so fucked. I’m so, so fucked,” Emmet cries.

“Come here, Angel.” Jayce takes hold of his shoulders and steers him out the door. I have to step into the closet/bathroom to give them enough room to leave.

“I don’t understand.” Mrs. Asher sounds irritated.

“There is no friend named Peter. He lied to you about who he was and whatever these products are.” I do my best not to shake her for her lack of empathy for her son.

“That can’t be right.” She shrinks back into the bench seat at the fold-out kitchen table.

“Mrs. Asher, do you understand why Emmet’s upset?” I know she’s mentally ill, but there might be more going on.

“He always gets upset when I buy myself things. But this will be good for me and he should calm down.” She waves her hand dismissively.

I don’t think she will listen if I explain how much she will pay in interest and how long it will take her—Emmet—to pay off the debt. Looking around, there’s no way she has the money to pay for it. Emmet’s already paying her bills.

“Mrs. Asher.” I wait until she makes eye contact with me. “Your son is homeless.”

“That can’t be true.” She flinches in horror.

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