The Confession Read Free Page B

stuck pieces of newspaper to it.
    â€œGood,” he said. “Lucia and Stanley want to adopt us.”
    I crouched beside him, finding a clear space that didn’t look completely sticky.
    â€œI heard. What do you think about that?” Being adopted was a big deal. Knowing someone wanted you—really wanted you—was both enormously validating, and its own type of betrayal. I’d never felt like I’d let my birth mother down more than the day my dad said he wanted to make me his.
    â€œIt’s good,” he said. “My mom gave up custody.”
    I knew that, too, but played dumb so he could tell me about it.
    â€œOh yeah?”
    â€œYeah. Lucia says we don’t have to see her again if we don’t want to.”
    â€œAnd do you want to?”
    Part of me wished I could see my birth mother again, if only for a few minutes. I’d forgiven her for loving the drugs more than me a long time ago, but sometimes I still wanted to ask her why she’d never tried harder to be my mom. Why she’d never fought for me.
    Was I not worth fighting for?
    â€œNope,” said Jacob definitively. “She makes me and Sissy feel bad.”
    I nodded. “Yeah. But I bet there was a time she didn’t make you feel bad. And if you’re ever thinking about that, and wondering what she’s like, you can talk to Lucia about seeing her.”
    â€œI won’t.”
    I’d probably said the same thing.
    â€œOkay,” I said. “Should we celebrate the adoption?”
    Jacob looked up. “Tacos?”
    I snorted. “Sure. When it’s all done, let’s go get tacos.” I turned to Jacob’s sister. “Hey Sammy, nice stacking.”
    She smiled at me, and I grinned back. She didn’t do that much, and I’d take what I could get. Glancing down, she picked up the newspaper on top and handed it to me.
    â€œYou wanna do craps with us?”
    â€œShe means crafts,” said Jacob.
    â€œI would hope so,” I said. But before I could say yes, I looked down at the paper and stalled, because staring back at me was Alec’s face.
    He was sitting in a courtroom, hands folded on the desk before him. His hair had grown out a little since I’d seen him, but was still kept smoothed back behind his ears. He was wearing a suit and tie, and looked like someone had died.
    Key Witness Has Questionable Past
said the caption beneath the photo. The rest of the article had been cut away. The date was still at the top, though. It was from four days ago—the first day of the trial.
    Resentment at the quote surged through me before I remembered that he wasn’t mine to defend.
    I’d known when the trial had begun of course. I’d counted down the days until it started, along with half of Tampa. But because of my ties to Alec, to Maxim, to all of it, I’d tried to steer clear as much as possible. I didn’t get the newspaper. I’d turned the Internet off on my phone. When I went to restaurants or the gym, I made sure to position myself as far away from the televisions as possible.
    And yet Alec still landed right in my lap.
    â€œYou coming to the dinner?” Jacob asked. “Lucia says I gotta wear a tie.”
    â€œI got a dress,” said Sammy. “It’s pink.”
    â€œNice,” I told her. The dinner Jacob was referring to was a formal CASA fund-raising event this Friday. The program was staffed by volunteers, but training and raising awareness didn’t come cheap. This was a chance to reach out to the donors with deep pockets and show them just how important the advocates were to the kids.
    â€œ ’Course I’m going to be there,” I said.
    â€œYou going to bring your
boyfriend
?”
    I stiffened. “You don’t want to be my date?”
    â€œEw, gross. You’re, like, thirty.”
    â€œNot quite,” I said. “But thanks.”
    I’d actually asked Amy to come with