Page 85 of The Wrong Side of the Law

Robert Ferry. RobertgoddamnFerry. I will get that son of a bitch for this, I mentally snarl.

“At least… Please, Frank,” I beg. “Please at least fire the public defender? Lisa offered to represent you, y’know? For free, even.”

My brother just shakes his head.

“There’s no point,” he says. “There really isn’t. And, I mean, I’m only trying to get out from under Mom’s thumb, not drive her entirely away. You know how she feels about Lisa.”

I do, and that’smyfault. If only I hadn’t been so stupidly stubborn about Dad’s estate, Margaret wouldn’t have put her foot down about Lisa.

“I don’t know how, Frank, not yet,” I say, “but I promise you: you’re not going to prison.”

“Don’t make promises you can’t keep, Emily,” he says, with the sad smile of a man on his way to the gallows. His bottom lip trembles, ever so slightly, and I can see that he’s doing his best to hold it all together. “Look. Sis. I’m really tired. I’d like to take a nap, I think.”

“Okay.” I fold him up in a tight—but brief—hug, then stand, pretending I don’t know that he’s rushing me out so I won’t see him cry. “I’m going to take off, then. I promise, though: I’m going to spend more time here, more time with you. I’m not going to be away so much.”

“Again, sis: don’t make promises you can’t keep.” Frank’s smile is still sad, but there’s a knowing twinkle in his eye. “I hope he makes you happy, though. Whoever he is.”

My brother pushes me out the door as abruptly as he’d yanked me in, deaf to my protestations of virtue and innocence… and straight into Margaret.

She stands there, drawn up to her full height—as tall as me, once you factor in the three-inch heels—and we stare each other down silently until the lock clicks on my brother’s bedroom door.

“How is he?” she asks.

I look back at the door. I’m sure my baby brother is on the other side of it, trying to have his little breakdown quietly so that his mother and sister won’t hear it.

“Downstairs,” I say, my voice hoarse with pent-up fury. “Downstairs,now.”

I go first: I’m don’t know if I could trust myself to resist the temptation of standing behind her on the stairs, not after that talk with Frank.

“Well?” Margaret says, arms crossed indignantly. “How is he?”

“He’s up shit creek, Margaret,” I say, all the rage from just a moment ago fading into a vast, deep sadness. “And he doesn’t have a paddle. And it’s because of you.”

“What do you mean,because of me?” My stepmother’s eyes widen in shocked, offended innocence. I guess the Botox is wearing off.

“Oh, let me count thewaysthat this is your fault!” A finger held in the air in front of her face. “Youpampered him and sheltered him and never let him grow up. You tried to turn him into your own personal little Peter Pan man-child.” A second finger. “Youput him out there on tour with some crook—whoever he was—who took advantage of his innocence.”

Margaret opens her mouth to protest, but I put up a third finger and drive straight over her objections with an unstoppable steamroller.

“Youpissed away all the money that our father—myfather,Frank’sfather—put away for our future, so that we can’t afford to hire a decent lawyer for him. And as if that wasn’t bad enough,” I snap, raising a fourth finger, “you’re such an insecurebitchthat you’ve forbidden Frank to let Lisa handle his case, even forfree!”

“I willnothave that woman corrupting my son,” she huffs. “That whore tried to steal my husband from me, and she’s destroyed the loving relationship that I’ve always had with my daughter. She’s turned you into a monster. A greedy one, who only cares about money.”

I shake my head and sigh, looking off at the floor. I walk toward the door, pulling my phone out to text Gabriel that I’m on my way.

“You were wrong, y’know. When you blamed my father for this? Oh, yes,” I say to her surprised face. “Frank heard you. But you were wrong. He did get your brains.”

“What do you- I don’t understand?”

“He must have gotten yours. All of them,” I snarl, throwing the front door open and walking through it. “Because you have none left, you idiot!”

And he got all of your looks, too, you shriveled hag, I think to myself with a vicious satisfaction.

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