"Are you up for giving me details or are you going to keep it under wraps?" she asked. "Your sister always kept everything under wraps until she had it perfectly thought out. She liked the big reveal."
"Yeah, I guess that's a good idea. There are a lot of details to figure out," I said.
"Well, at least give me the general idea." My mother smiled and took a large slice of pizza.
"I think I found a way to use my talents to earn enough money to get certified in the perfect career," I said. "And the best part is I can do it all on my own. No offense."
"None taken," my mother said. "I sometimes think I would feel stronger, more steady, if I had made my own way. I don't regret marrying your father, but he pays for everything and it leaves me, I don't know, adrift."
Her eyes started to get a familiar faraway glaze. I could feel the relaxation and contentment evaporating from her. My mother's mood swings always made me nervous. I chewed my pizza carefully and wondered how to ask her about them. Did she know Sienna had the same sharp ups and downs? My mother had to know it was dangerous. She had to feel it.
"Oh, your phone's buzzing," my mother said. "I'm just going to run upstairs and get an aspirin." She disappeared up the staircase, and I had the sinking feeling I would not see her again for too long.
I looked at my phone and saw Owen's name. I froze. Part of me wanted to throw my phone across the room. Wouldn't life be simpler without Owen? I wondered. The majority of me, including my leaping heart, knew that Owen would always be the one part of my life I could count on no matter how messy things got.
"Hello?" I asked.
"Quinn, is there any way you can come over? The cops are here again and I feel like I need someone to be my witness," Owen said.
"The cops are at your apartment again?" I asked. I slid reluctantly off my stool and looked up the stairs after my mother. "Shouldn't you call a lawyer, instead?"
"Yes. I don't know. I don't know how to handle this. They're not finding anything and I don't want to blow it out of proportion. It would just feel better if I had someone here on my side. Besides, your father is a lawyer. You'll probably understand all this legal talk better than me."
I promised I would leave soon and went to the foot of the stairs. "Mom? Are you okay?"
"Just tired, darling. I think I'll turn in," she called down, her voice fuzzy.
"Do you mind if I run out? I'll call Father and let him know," I said.
"Sure, sure," her voice disappeared and I heard her bedroom door shut.
I was relieved to get my father's voicemail. I told him I was running out to the store to grab a few things and would be home soon. Then, I drove as quickly as I could to Owen's apartment and found three squad cars parked haphazardly outside his building.
#
I found Owen pacing the hallway outside his apartment.
"Are you okay?" I asked. I peeked around him into the open door. Four uniformed police officers were systematically searching every inch of his apartment.
"No. I'm not okay. I know you're not going to want to hear this, but I have a theory about why this is happening," Owen said.
"Why wouldn't I want to hear your theory?" I crossed my arms and leaned against the hallway wall.
"Because I think somehow your father is using his connections to create these search warrants and send the cops over here." He saw my face and held up his hands. "Hey, I said you didn't want to hear it, but think about it. He doesn't want me around you. He'd be happy to discredit me in any way possible."
"That doesn't mean he would stoop to illegal measures," I said.
"That's why I think it makes sense that it’s him. He can do all of this and make it seem perfectly legal," Owen said.
I ran both hands through my hair and had to strain not to pull any out. "So, you brought me over here to throw me in the middle of some psychotic made-up dispute between you and my father?" I asked.
Owen stopped pacing and pried my hands off my head. "No. And it’s not psychotic. Your father blames me for a lot of things, now more than ever."
"He can't blame you for me quitting my nursing program. And even if he did, this would make no sense as retaliation," I said.
"I don't think it’s about the nursing program," Owen said. He bit his lip.
"You mean you think this is about what happened with Sienna? He blames you for her death?" I pulled away. "Look, Owen, this isn't what I needed tonight. I'm sorry this is happening to you, but I am certain it has nothing to do with my father."