The Tessa Randolph Collection, Books 1-3 by Paula Lester (best ereader for comics .txt) 📗

She patted the top of the carrier as though she were patting Pepper’s head, smiled, and then followed her mother into the kitchen. "Sure, I'll have an egg. Thanks."

"You don't look good, dear," Cheryl said, eyeing her daughter for a moment before heading to the refrigerator. "What happened last night?"

Tessa sank onto a bar stool and leaned on the counter. "Jake called it an emergency reap, and he explained to me a little bit, but I still don't really understand. I've never heard of such a thing."

Setting the carton of eggs on the counter, Cheryl turned to face Tessa, tipping her head. "Oh, Tessa, there's a lot to this job. Not all of it is something you can put into a manual. Things . . . change sometimes. You know, every life is different. So is every death."

Tessa felt her brow wrinkle as she tried to wrap her brain around what Cheryl had said. "Okay, but I thought all deaths were part of the universe's plan somehow. Shouldn't they be on the schedule, no matter what the cause is?"

Cheryl shook her head, pressing her lips together as she busied herself getting down a bowl and digging a whisk out of the drawer. "Not always. There are certain things—usually suicides, murders, and even some accidents—that aren't on the typical death timeline. They aren't the same as, say, a sickness that runs its course."

Cheryl paused for a moment, staring into space as though trying to figure out how to explain what she wanted to say. Then she began moving again, cracking eggs into the bowl. "It's free will, really. Humans have that, you know. Split-second decisions can be made." She grabbed the whisk and began beating the eggs, sparing a glance for her daughter.

Tessa mulled it over. "Okay," she said slowly. "So, what, some things involve free will and others don't?"

"Basically." Cheryl nodded. "Anything with less than a fifty percent chance of happening isn't reported into the reaper app. Until it becomes more than fifty percent likely. So, for example, someone with a forty-nine percent chance of committing suicide won't be reported until almost the instant it happens. The same goes for some murders."

Tessa drummed her fingers on the countertop. "But I've been involved in murder reaps before, Mom. They were on the app."

"Yes, because there was a greater than a fifty percent chance of them happening. Some murders are more calculated than others. Premeditation. It's really that simple. In fact, the opposite can happen too. Sometimes, we are called to a reap that doesn't end up happening. It's rare, but it does occur. It's happened to me."

Tessa didn't think it sounded simple it all, but it was at least enough of an explanation to get her started. She decided to drop the subject and bring up Pepper again, hoping to catch her mom off-guard. "You know, Pepper may not be the only one who needs somewhere to stay right now. I had a pretty major disagreement with Silas. To be honest, I'd be more comfortable not staying in my apartment right now too. Can we . . . Pepper and I . . . stay with you for a little while? We’ll be quiet and neat, I promise."

Tessa crossed her fingers. If Cheryl said no, she really didn't know where else she was going to go. Maybe Gloria's house?

But Cheryl nodded. "You can stay for a little while. I'll be out of town for the rest of the week, anyway, and it will be nice to have someone housesitting." She poured the scrambled eggs into a pan she'd been warming on the stove and then turned to face Tessa while they cooked. "But you won't be able to stay for very long, I'm afraid."

I don't really want to stay that long anyway. But Tessa didn't say the thought out loud. Instead, she simply said, "Why?"

“There was something I wanted to tell you last night. But I just couldn’t.” Cheryl wouldn’t meet her eyes. “I'm moving, and I'm selling the house. I decided to go to Chicago, so I can be closer to the main Eastern district office."

Finally, she met Tessa's eyes calmly, but Tessa could've sworn she saw a flicker of something there. What was it? If Tessa didn't know better, she would think maybe it was hope—did her mother hope Tessa would ask her not to go to Chicago?

But Tessa rejected that straight away. There was no way Cheryl would be that impractical. If she had decided that moving to Chicago was the best thing to do for her career, then she would follow that path without any concern for how Tessa may feel about it.

"That's, uh, great, Mom. I'm really proud of you for getting that promotion, and I hope you like Chicago. It will be great to come and visit you there. Maybe we can go to the museums together or something. Have some Chicago-style pizza."

Cheryl blinked a few times, and Tessa could've almost convinced herself she saw a flash of disappointment in the other woman's eyes. But she turned back toward the stove before Tessa could be sure. "Thank you, dear." She stirred the eggs and didn't say anything further.

Tessa watched her mother's back and swallowed a lump in her throat. In the space of a day, she’d lost her new boyfriend, possibly her home, and now her mother was moving away. What a rotten day. She could only hope the rest of it got better.

Chapter 15

BY THE TIME TESSA ARRIVED at work, the sleepless night and pile-up of depressing events all weighed down on her like a physical presence. Her feet didn’t seem to want to lift, and she shuffled across the asphalt and up the dilapidated sidewalk to the building.

Even the front door seemed heavy; she had to use both hands to pull it open. The effort resulted in a big yawn that forced her eyes closed and made her stumble to a stop in the lobby.

"Ooh, you look