One Last Chance. Justine Davis

she really be so calm about it, sounding almost proud of the brother who had no doubt sent them money, if she’d known where it came from?

      I don’t believe it, he thought, knowing even as the words formed in his mind that they stemmed more from his own unwillingness to believe it than from any firm conviction. You just don’t want to believe you can be fooled so easily, he told himself sourly.

      Aware she was looking at him rather curiously, he quickly asked her about the small, prestigious college she’d told him she’d attended. Had de Cortez paid for that, too? Had the man who sold death on the streets lovingly sent his little sister to school?

      He couldn’t think about it, not now. She was sharp. Sooner or later she was going to realize that he was asking a lot of questions and not answering many of her own. He had to take it on faith for now and analyze it later, or he was going to press her too hard and lose the contact altogether.

      Later, keeping it carefully vague, he found himself telling her about Quisto and his family, guessing that it would seem as chaotic to her as it did to him. She laughed at their antics and smiled warmly when he told her of how the matriarch of the clan kept treating him like another son.