But as I make my way up the staircase, I know that given the choice to buy this house or a smaller one, I would have gone with this one. I wanted Aaron and my mom to have a nice place to live, especially given the hell I’d put them through. I needed to compensate for being gone for seven long years. When I’d been sentenced to prison, Aaron was three years old. I’ll never know how hard it was for him because I couldn’t bear to consider it. My mother diligently brought him out to visit me in Texas as much as she could, but money was tight so it wasn’t often enough. It was usually managed through the generosity of family members who pooled their funds so my mom and son could make the long drive out there from Ohio. Beyond that, I had to make do with phone calls to try to develop whatever type of relationship I could with my son in that capacity. Once he’d started reading and writing, we’d communicated through letters, but that had been a horrible way to have a mother-son relationship.
I’m lucky though. My son is the most amazing kid in the entire world. He’s bright and wise beyond his years, but he’s empathetic to the terrible situation I’d placed myself in.
Yes, it’d been beyond reprehensible I got involved in black-hat hacking to begin with. I shouldn’t have turned to crime to help make ends meet while struggling as a new mom, a college dropout, while also trying to help take care of a sick mother at the same time.
But then I was in too deep. The things they asked me to do became more complex, which meant the risk was way too great. When I tried to back away, I was reminded all too clearly I was going nowhere. I belonged to them forever. The insurance policy they had to make me stay and be a good little hacker was my son, Aaron. The threat was laid out all nice and clean… I was to do as I was told or Aaron would die.
It was that simple.
The only way I could get myself out of the situation was to get caught. I was tasked with hacking our government’s complex framework to steal nuclear codes. It was the hack of all hacks, and I made myself into a legend while simultaneously dooming my life. I was not about to let our nuclear codes get away from me. I couldn’t—in good conscience—put people’s lives at risk like that. Besides… I love my country.
So, I intentionally got caught. My hope was if I went to prison, I’d at least be out of the clutches of the organization I worked for while Aaron and my mom would be free of my sins.
I should have been destroyed when I was handed a thirty-five-year prison sentence, but I couldn’t be. The relief I’d felt over not having to worry about Aaron’s life being at risk anymore had been too great. It made it easy to do my time with a clean conscience.
Pausing after I make my way to the top of the staircase, I glance over the railing at the living room. I bought new furniture and pretty artwork before we moved in, wanting to make this a real home for Aaron. It’s crazy that just six months ago, I was in prison and receiving a surprise visit from Kynan McGrath.
Oh, the ego he had, striding into that meeting room to offer me a job. I thought he was fucking nuts, but damn if I didn’t walk out of the prison with him that day.
A free woman and an official employee of Jameson Force Security.
The power Kynan commands with the U.S. government is slightly terrifying. I suppose he’s done so much great work for them that he can pretty much name any price. In my instance, he wanted one of the best hackers in the world to work for him, which is how I’m now free and living in a four-hundred-thousand-dollar house I never could have afforded—not even in my wildest dreams—without having met Kynan McGrath.
Needless to say, Jameson pays me extremely well for my talents, which are now white and pure as snow.
I move down the short catwalk to the hall, which branches off. The master suite, which is mine, is to the right. Aaron and my mom’s rooms, along with a bonus room over the two-car garage, are to the left.
I knock on Aaron’s door, waiting for him to answer. Music blares on the other side, but he somehow hears me. In just a moment, the door swings open to reveal a cheerily smiling Aaron, his backpack slung over his shoulder.
He looks nothing like his father, who I can barely recall an image of. I got pregnant with Aaron my sophomore year of college while at MIT, and his father hadn’t stuck around even to the second trimester. I tried to keep him updated as best I could after Aaron was born, but he wasn’t interested in being a dad.
When I got sent to prison, I was terrified his dad would try to come back into the picture, but no… he was happy with my mom having full custody. Even though my heart bleeds over Aaron not having a father who’s interested in him, I’m glad he’s all mine.
Well, me and my mom’s. She’s as much his parent as I am, I suppose.
“Hey, kiddo,” I say, reaching out to tousle his hair. “We need to work out a better system than me yelling up the stairs for you to get a move on and you not hearing me.”
“What do you suggest?” he asks, his eyes dancing.
“Perhaps turn your music down, keep your door open, and your ears on high alert for any important messages from your old mom,” I say sternly.
He just snickers and leans in—yes, he’s as tall as I am—to kiss my cheek. “Sure thing, Mom.”
I completely melt because first… he’s a ten-year-old boy, so I’d expect legitimate sass. At least an eye roll. Hell, I wronged him so horribly by getting sent away to prison. It’d be completely understandable if he disobeyed me and blamed it on his shaky upbringing.
But my kid doesn’t do that. He responds in such an affectionate, easygoing way that I sometimes think he’s the real adult and I’m the child in this relationship. Aaron is such a love bug… he’s the one who ends up treating me with kid gloves because he hates I’ve also suffered.
He moves past me to bound down the steps. I catch up with him in the kitchen just as he’s bending to kiss his grandma on the cheek as well. I should be jealous of their tight relationship, but I can’t be. I’m far too grateful they had each other to lean on in the years I was away. The bond between them was essential to their survival.
“What do you two feel like for dinner tonight?” I ask as I move to the coffee pot to fill up my travel mug. Aaron plops at the table, then starts wolfing down a quick bowl of cereal.
“I can handle dinner,” my mom says as she stands, nabbing her teacup.
I automatically reach for it. “I’ll make you another cup.”
My mom ambles over, her flowered housecoat worn and well-loved. She moves right into me, puts a hand to my face, and says, “Stop trying to do everything, Bebe. You have nothing to prove.”
God, she’s so wrong about that. I have so much to prove, especially that I deserve this second chance at life. I need to be the best mom and daughter, and the best employee for Kynan.
But now is not the time to argue, because we are late. Smiling, I step around her to grab my purse. “Come on, Aaron. We’ve got to go.”
He packs one more huge bite of cereal in his mouth before grabbing the box of Captain Crunch, intent on taking it with us. I’m okay with that, especially because he’s still hungry. Smiling, he dips to give my mom a goodbye kiss.
“Think we can hit the park today?” Aaron asks as we head through the mudroom into the garage.