Evil Never Dies

“Well, I’m disappointed. Have you at least been trying to meet people?”

“Not really. No need.”

“What about the woman you told me about . . . Lola, wasn’t it?”

“We still talk,” he lied. Lola was merely a figment of his imagination, thought up to make Gillian happy. How stupid could she be to think that he actually knew a Lola, a name he’d come up with after listening to a song on the radio?

“Wonderful news. When can I meet her?”

“I don’t know why you try so hard to pretend we’re friends,” he a

“We’ve been over this. You know I’m only trying to help.”

She made him feel as if he were suffocating. Who does she think she is? He could feel his anger building, starting at the arches of his feet, ready to work its way up to his core and burst into outrage.

To make matters worse, Claire shouted something from within her small confines. Despite being bound, she also managed to make a loud thumping noise against the floor.

“What’s going on over there? Are you having work done?”

“It’s the neighbors,” he said quickly. “They’re always in the middle of one renovation or another.”

“Why is it always so difficult for you to talk to me?”

“Do you want the truth, Gillian?”

“You know I do.”

“Because I don’t like the way you make me feel.”

“How is that?”

“Small and insignificant.”

“If that’s true, then there must be others who make you feel small and insignificant.”

Endorphins rushed to his brain. Only you, Gillian. Only you. “Gillian,” he said through clenched teeth, “do I need to remind you that, thanks to my parents naming you trustee, you control my finances, my wealth, and now you’re trying to control my personal life, too? So, no, you’re not like anyone else.”

“I’m sorry. You’re right. I shouldn’t have upset you.”

“I’m fine.”

Finally, after a string of awkward apologies, she allowed the conversation to end. The moment he disco

And this time when she screamed, it was a shrill sound filled with fear and anxiety. It was downright primal, instantly filling him with heavenly rapture. In that instant, he found himself wishing he could keep Claire here with him forever.

CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

Hayley had been surprised to hear from Kitally that Salma was still in the hospital after having a caesarean. Standing right outside Salma’s room, she waited for a young man to exit before she headed inside. Salma looked over at her and gave her a sheepish smile. “Sorry about making a mess of your car.”

“No big deal.” Hayley gestured toward the exit. “Was that your boyfriend?”

“No. That was my brother. He wanted me to know that my family will not accept my baby unless I agree to never see my boyfriend again.”

“Their loss,” she said. “I saw your daughter in the nursery. She looks healthy.”

Salma’s eyes welled with tears. “I don’t know why I’m getting all emotional,” she said, clearly embarrassed, “but I want to thank you guys for everything you’ve done for me and my baby.”

“Not a problem,” Hayley said, antsy now. Too much praise and way too many emotions. Back to solid ground. “Have you chosen a name?”

“Not yet. I’m going to wait until the perfect one comes to me. I know you’re not a mom, but how old was your mom when she had you?”

“My mom?” Hayley had to think. “She was young . . . maybe seventeen.”

“What was it like for the two of you?”

Snippets of her life with her mom came flooding into her mind’s eye, but Hayley stopped the flow. “You know what?” she said. “I loved my mom more than anyone in this world, but if you’re looking for advice, all I can say is think of your kid when you make decisions. She didn’t ask to be brought into this world. It was you and your boyfriend’s doing. Don’t be selfish. Put your daughter first.”

“I’m going to do everything I can to make sure my daughter has the best life possible.”

Hayley wished her mom had vowed to do the same and hadn’t let outside forces intervene, but such was life. “I know you must be scared,” she said. “As a single mom, it’s not going to be easy for either of you, but the best thing you can do for your daughter is to be there for her when she needs you.”

“I think that’s good advice.”

Kitally came into the room just then, out of breath. “You didn’t give her the gift yet, did you?”

“Nope.”

Kitally snatched the bag from Hayley’s hand and gave it to Salma.

Salma reached inside and pulled out a pink frilly baby dress. There were other clothes in the bag, too—soft cotton bodysuits and booties. “Oh, the dress is darling. Thank you so much for everything.”

“So,” Kitally said, “are we ever going to meet the father of the baby?”

Salma blushed. “I can’t say. In my culture, women don’t really even date men, let alone men outside their religion. And they definitely don’t get pregnant by them.”

“Did he know you were pregnant?”

“Of course. But I haven’t told him where I’m staying. My brothers have threatened to do him harm if they find out who he is, so I’m not telling anyone his name, either.”

“I see. That’s too bad.”

Silence hovered over them like a dark cloud until Kitally said, “Have you named your daughter yet?”

“She doesn’t want to force it,” Hayley said.

“I feel as if I’ll know what her name is after I’ve spent more time with her,” Salma said. “Does that make sense?”

Kitally screwed up her face. “Not at all. I think Lucy would be a cute name.”

“God no,” Hayley said, “not Lucy.” Then again, what did it matter? After looking through the wall of glass at all the babies, Hayley didn’t understand why women gushed over them. With their big heads, nonexistent necks, and wrinkly skin, not one of them was the least bit attractive.

Kitally kept at it. “How about something different, like Hermione or Minerva?”

Hayley rolled her eyes.

Salma merely ignored her, and then said, “Have you two had any luck locating the Ghost?”

“Not so far.”

“I tried calling the girl I lived with, the one who was evicted from her apartment, but she hasn’t returned my calls. I wish I could remember her name.”

“If it comes to you, let us know,” Kitally said. “I’ll be back tomorrow to visit.”

“We better go,” Hayley told Kitally. “We have work to do.”

“Yeah, we need to hurry so we can get back in time for your date.”

“You have a date?” Salma asked Hayley.

“No. I’m just going to a concert with Tommy. He’s just a friend.”

Kitally looked at Salma and winked.

Hayley couldn’t remember the last time she’d been inside a mall. The Fashion Plus store where Miriam Walters worked before she disappeared was lit up with fluorescent lights so bright she squinted.

Halfway across the store, she lost Kitally to a striped sequined dress. The ma

“My name is Hayley Hansen. Is there anyone here I can talk to about Miriam Walters?”

A tall girl with black hair and straight-cut bangs looked Hayley over before she asked, “Why?”