In the middle of Monday morning, there’s a soft knock at my apartment door.

I’m curled up in the middle of my sofa, the comforter from my bed wrapped around me, the air conditioning turned up as high as it will go. I’m halfway through 27 Dresses on Netflix.

It’s not anyone from work because why would they come to my house? I had to tell Hadley at least the outlines of what happened, and she practically tripped over herself to tell me that I could not, under any circumstances, come back into the Sisterspark offices until this issue was resolved.

“I’m not terminating you, Angelica,” she said, her voice stretched thin.

“Thank you, Hadley. I know it’s not—”

“Being questioned by the police isn’t cause for firing you, but I simply can’t risk having you in the office if you’re charged. I hope you understand.” Her tone conveyed she didn’t care if I understood or not.

“I do.”

“Please let me know when this is resolved, either way.”

“I will.”

“Goodbye, Angelica.”

So it’s definitely not Hadley at the door, or anyone else from Sisterspark.

I flip the comforter off me and fold it into a rough square, draping it over the back of the sofa. At least I’ve picked a normal outfit to wear—yoga pants and a tank top—and my hair is piled on top of my head in a bun. Whoever it is, they won’t be scared of my appearance.

The knock comes again. “Be right there,” I say, then scoop up a couple of dirty dishes and drop them into the sink in the kitchen.

At the door, I take a deep breath and reach for the doorknob.

My mother is standing in the hallway, dressed in a skirt I recognize from her job-interview outfit and a button-down shirt with puff sleeves. She’s wearing her most comfortable shoes, a pair of KEENs I bought her for Christmas two years ago because you can dress them up or down and they don’t make your feet hurt after putting in a double shift at the convenience store.

“Mom! Come in.” I wave her inside, then shut the door behind us, flipping the lock without thinking.

“Hi, Angie.”

“What are you doing here?”

She gives me a quirky smile. “A woman can’t visit her own daughter?”

“I thought—I thought you’d stay at the hotel, with Adam.”

“He gave me your address. I wanted to see you.”

She wraps her arms around me and holds on for a long minute.

“I’m glad you came, I just...” I don’t want to tell her that she could still be in danger. I haven’t heard anything about whether they’ve managed to catch Charlie, and he could be...he could be anywhere. I wrack my brain. Has he ever mentioned knowing my address? I wouldn’t be surprised if he had it. “I’m surprised.”

My mom takes in a deep breath. “Do you want to sit and talk?”

“Sure. Something to drink?”

“Oh, water’s fine.” I can’t count how many times I’ve heard her say that over the years—“water’s fine.” We rarely had money to eat out when I was growing up, but when we did, she never splurged on pop.

I pull two bottles of water out of the fridge. When I come back to the living room, she’s nestled on one side of the couch, her feet tucked up underneath her.

“Angelica,” she laughs, “tap water is more than enough.”

“Don’t worry about it, Mom. I had this around.”

“Oh, all right.” She twists the cap off the bottle and takes a drink while I sit down across from her, leaning against the arm rest and crossing my legs.

Then Mom looks me straight in the eyes. “Angie, you can tell me what happened.”

I take a deep breath, then put my fingers to the corners of my eyes, where tears are welling up. “What did Adam tell you?”

“Not very much,” she says, her forehead wrinkling. “He told me he got in over his head with a group that lent him money. He didn’t say what for. And then he said that somehow you got roped into helping him pay it off.”

“That’s all true.”

“I don’t understand how.”

“It was a scary situation, Mom.”

“And you didn’t go to the police?”

“I tried.”

“They didn’t listen?”

“It was—there were more people involved than I thought. At the time, it seemed like the right thing to do.”

My mother presses her lips together, then speaks very carefully. “Angelica, what was it they asked you to do?” The tension in her voice sends a bolt of pain through my chest. Mom is imagining the worst, and I’m the bitch who hasn’t put her mind at ease.

“It was some kind of scheme. I was supposed to...download information from a rich man’s computer, and give it back to the man who lent Adam the money.”

Now she purses her lips, looking down at the fabric of the couch.

I can’t bear it.

“I didn’t want to steal from him, Mom. I never got any money. I wanted to make sure that Adam was all right.” I lean forward and take her hand in mine. “I had to protect him.” The words come out urgently, my voice low and pleading.

Mom shakes her head slowly. “I can’t blame you for that.” She takes another sip of the water, then carefully screws the top back onto the bottle. “I can only blame myself.”

“What?”

“I left the two of you on your own for too many years. It’s not up to you to shield him from the world anymore, Angie. He’s a grown man.”

“I know that.”

My mother presses her fingertips to her lips. “It’s so hard to understand,” she says, her voice tentative.

“I know.”

“Don’t you feel badly about it all?”

She’s trying to figure out if she’s raised monsters instead of the decent people she’s always wanted us to be.

“Mom.” My voice is choked with tears. “I feel horrible about it every day. And not only because...”

I can’t continue. Jett’s face is all I can think of, but not his rage when I told him what I’d done. His contentment when we were in bed together, lying curled up together under the sheets.

“Oh, Angie,” she says, then gathers me into her arms. “You fell in love, didn’t you?”

I force the words out between sobs. “I fell in love...and I couldn’t stop it, even then.”