When She Was Bad

4

Lilith followed Lyssy, spotting him for safety as he stumped unevenly up the swing-down ladder and through the trapdoor into the attic dormer, a low-budget add-on consisting of one long, low-ceilinged room built of cheapjack pine and press-on veneer siding, running almost the length of the roof. Two dormer windows faced front, each housing a bulky air conditioner, only one of which still functioned.

The cracked and faded Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtle-themed linoleum, along with the twin beds, the twin child-size dressers, and a spray-painted baby-blue bookcase, suggested even to Lyssy’s inexperienced eyes that the room had once housed children. He asked Lilith if Carson and Mama Rose had had any kids; she told him no, that they’d bought the place furnished.

“They seemed like nice folks,” said Lyssy, sitting on the bed nearest the trapdoor.

“Actually, they’re stone killers, both of them. And Mama Rose already sold me out once-don’t think she won’t try it again, first chance she gets.”

“Then why did you bring us here?”

She sat down next to him, put her hand on his flesh-and-blood knee, and lowered her voice to a whisper. “For the same reason people rob banks-because that’s where the money is.”

Lyssy’s eyes widened, the gold flecks dancing in the dim morning light. “We’re gonna rob them?”

“We’re gonna need lots and lots of cash to live on the lam. You got a better idea?”

“No, but-”

“I didn’t think so,” she said wearily. The lack of sleep was starting to catch up to her. She closed her eyes and felt the room swaying; when she opened them again Lyssy was staring at her in alarm.

“Are you okay?” he asked her.

“Fine-I’m fine,” she mumbled, swinging her legs up onto the bed. “Just need…couple hours…good as new.”

She was asleep atop the covers by the time her head hit the pillow. Lyssy took off her sneakers for her, then limped over to the other bed, stripped off the blanket, covered her with it, and sat down again on the edge of the bed to watch over her while she slept.