“So, Tita, you dropped Marcus off at work, right? Did he tell you anything more about the case?”

She stiffened, then went back to pulling the strings out of the bean sprouts as if I hadn’t said anything.

I laid the knife down. “Tita? What did he say?”

She finished the bean sprouts and moved on to chopping the garlic and firm tofu. “Can you get the patis? I forgot to set it out.”

I grabbed the bottle of fish sauce, one of the few strictly non-vegetarian things Adeena allowed herself, and handed it to her. “Tita Rosie, what did you talk about? Was it about the vandalism? Does he know more about Derek and the drugs?”

“Ay, Lila, stop worrying so much. Amir will handle everything when we go to court. It’s fine.”

I dropped the large piece of kalabasa I was peeling back onto the cutting board with a clatter. “Tita, we are not fine! I’m not a child anymore. You asked me to come back, you wanted my help with the business, fine. I’m here. The least you could do is tell me the truth.”

My aunt stepped back, shock written all over her face. I never talked back. Even when I was a teenager, my biggest concession to a rebellious phase was perfecting my eye roll and heavy sigh. Oh, and my fashion choices, but that was more to bother Lola than her.

My stomach churned with guilt, but I stood my ground. I upended my life to move back home and save our family business (Which, OK, wasn’t going so well, but still. My point stands.) Maybe I shouldn’t have raised my voice to her, but I couldn’t help out if I didn’t have the truth.

My aunt seemed to have reached the same conclusion. “I don’t appreciate your tone, but you’re right. If I want your help, I have to be honest about our situation. But we can talk and work at the same time.”

I picked up the squash I’d dropped onto the cutting board and finished peeling it before moving on to the carrots. “How bad is it?”

“Marcus told me he’d been talking to Joseph.”

“Well, they are brothers. What’s wrong with that?”

“They were talking about you getting arrested and Joseph told him about our financial situation.”

“Oh.” I forgot Joseph was also our accountant. “Is he allowed to do that?”

She shrugged. “Does it matter? Not like anything is a secret around your ninang. Anyway, our finances were already in trouble, but the bail money was supposed to cover this month’s rent, and with Mr. Long after us . . .”

I did some quick mental math. “OK, we’re about three months behind, but if I halt my student loan payments, we should be able to pay him off—”

“Lila, he wants everything paid in full by the first of the month.”

It was already the eighteenth. “Oh my god, are you serious?”

Tita Rosie slammed her hand on the counter, making me jump. “In this house, we do not take the Lord’s name in vain!”

“Sorry, Tita. But if we can’t pay him back by the first . . .”

She nodded. “We lose the restaurant, even if you win your court case. The only reason we’ve been able to hold on to it so long is because his wife wouldn’t let him kick us out. But I doubt she’s going to intervene on our behalf if she thinks we killed her son.”

My heart clenched. “Mrs. Winter thinks we killed Derek?”

“She’s Mrs. Long now,” she reminded me. “I don’t think she knows what to believe. But she’s grieving and her husband is insisting we’re to blame. She’ll probably take any explanation as to why she’s lost her only child.”

Oh man, I totally forgot Derek was an only child. It was one of the things we’d bonded over, though he didn’t have the extended family that I did. I should probably visit Mrs. Winter, I mean Long, at home later to pay my respects. Or would that be awkward? Maybe I should just wait for his funeral? What was the etiquette when you were suspected of killing someone’s only child?

“So what are our options?” I asked.

“Get the restaurant open ASAP and earn enough money to pay him back. There are no other options.”

“That’s not very encouraging, Tita.”

“It’s only a problem if we fail. And we’re not going to fail because we have you now, diba.”

Oh great. So calling me back home was our Hail Mary play?

Yeah, no pressure.

Chapter Twenty-nine

After Tita Rosie dropped the bombshell that she was counting on me to somehow make the restaurant (our currently closed and trashed restaurant, by the way) turn enough profit to pay back three months’ worth of rent in less than two weeks, Lola Flor decided to make her grand entrance. This meant all talk of money went out the window and we spent the next hour and a half bickering about the “lazy” way I chopped vegetables.

My aunt, in an attempt to redirect the conversation, asked, “So how did your lunch with Terrence go? You were supposed to meet him today, weren’t you?”

Oh no, I totally forgot to call Terrence back after dropping off Bernadette. My conversation with her had turned my attention to my aunt and I completely blanked on him. And my non-date with Jae was supposed to be happening in a couple of hours, too. “Oh sh—shoot, I forgot about Terrence! I’m supposed to meet Dr. Jae tonight, too. I have to make a couple calls.”

I washed my hands and dashed out to the living room. I really hated the phone, but considering I had stood up Terrence and was canceling on Jae at the last minute, again, I should do them both the courtesy of a phone call rather than a text.

Terrence, thankfully, didn’t pick up. Nobody actually listened to their voice mails anymore, so I sent him a quick text explaining what’d happened and begging his forgiveness. His response came less than a minute later, meaning he’d been screening my call. All he said was,

I understand. See you tomorrow.

Oof, that period after ‘see you tomorrow’ felt super aggressive. Also, see me tomorrow? Was he trying to reschedule? Before I could text back, Jae messaged me.

My brother just told me about your restaurant. You OK?

I smiled. How thoughtful of him! Not just that he was checking on me, but that he texted first instead of calling. I selected the “Call” option on his contact and he picked up right away.

“Lila! How are you? I’m guessing we should postpone dinner again?”

“Hey, Jae. Yeah, I’m sorry to ditch you again, but—”

“No worries, I understand. Your family needs you. You still busy cleaning up? I can stop by to help.”

“Aww, that’s sweet, but we had a bunch of people volunteer to help us clean. We got the place in great shape, but to thank them, my aunt and grandma are cooking up a big meal for everyone. They’re insisting I be here to show my appreciation for everyone.”

“Wow, that . . . that sounds really nice. It’s great that you have so many friends willing to help you out.”

He sounded so wistful, I wondered what his deal was. Then I remembered how happy he was to be out at dinner with me and Adeena. That he lived alone and didn’t have many friends in town.

“Hey, I hope this isn’t too weird, but would you like to join us for dinner? My family always makes way too much food, and my aunt really likes your brother. I’m sure she’d love to meet you as well.”

“Yes! What time? Should I bring anything?”

Pretty sure his eagerness was because he couldn’t stomach another night alone or with his parents, but I still flattered myself that I was part of the draw.

“Hold on, let me ask.”

I wandered into the kitchen. “Tita, what time are people coming over? I invited Detective Park’s brother to dinner and he wants to know if he should bring anything.”

“Why? Does he think we won’t feed him properly?” my grandmother asked. “What would he need to bring?”

“Lola, he’s just being polite. People usually bring like, wine or dessert or something.”

“Bring dessert? Into my house?”

Tita Rosie cut in. “Tell him that we don’t need anything, but thanks for the offer. And everyone’s coming over at six o’clock.”

I went into the other room and relayed the information. “Don’t you dare bring food or dessert into this house or my grandma will kill you. Wine is a possibility, but my aunt doesn’t drink and we don’t even own wineglasses.”

He laughed. “Yeah, I overheard. I’m looking forward to meeting your grandmother. I’ll just bring flowers or something. And did I hear your aunt say six o’clock?”

“Yeah, but we all run on Brown People Time. Do not come at six, you’ll just stress everyone out. Any time after seven should be safe.”

He chuckled. “Sure are a lot of rules when coming over to your place.”

I laughed. “Just be glad we’re not dating. The level of scrutiny you’d be under has made tougher men than you crack under the pressure.”

He was silent for a moment. “I bet I could handle it.”

That was . . . not the response I was expecting. “Oh, um, I’m sure you could.” A beat passed. “Anyway, see you tonight?”

“After seven o’clock, bearing zero edible items, and ready to run through the gauntlet. See you later, Lila.”

Chapter Thirty