Green. They are green. None of us have green eyes. Why didn’t I notice this immediately?
“Hey, sis?” I ask. She smiles at me. “So. Why did you come into the shop this morning?”
She makes a face. “Why are you asking?”
“Because…” I pause. “Because I thought you were one of them.” I point to the known princesses still on the porch. They aren’t all there. Cinderella, Snow White and the Little Mermaid are all inside. So it’s just Oliver and the other two. I go looking for their names because this is what got me in trouble in the first place. “I thought you were Jasmine or…”
Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck. What is that other one called?
“Oh!” I snap my fingers. “Belle! Fuckin’ Belle. I thought you were Jasmine, or Belle, or Ariel.” Thank God I know who the Little Mermaid is. “And you’re not. Clearly. Because you are Vivian and as far as I know, there is no Disney princess Vivian. So while you are still very much a princess in my eyes”—I smile at her to keep her happy—“you’re not a Shrike princess. And therefore… I am going to prison unless we figure this out.”
Vivian pushes some unruly blonde hair out of her eyes and smiles at me. “Everyone calls me Vivi.”
“Holy hell, Vic. That was unnecessary.” Veronica shoots me a scowl as she comes over and kneels down next to me. “Vivi? I’m your aunt Ronnie. Sweetie, who is your mommy?” Ronnie side-eyes me as she says this. Like we’re gonna get to the bottom of this real fast because this child’s mother is one of my insane ex-girlfriends.
“Why do you think she’s mine?” I ask. “She could belong to Vinn or Vonn or Vann!” Everyone gives me the look. Including Vivi. “What? I’m careful!”
“You’re stupid,” Spencer says. “Vivian, I’m Uncle Spencer. What is your mother’s name?”
“Daisy,” Vivi says. “She’s a waitress at the Pancake House. I was over there this morning and then…” She shrugs. “I wanted to see why she hated that place so much.”
“What place?” I ask.
“The tattoo place. She looks at it funny every time we get off the bus for her work. And then she said you were bad people. And I should never go in there.” Vivi shrugs again like this explains everything. You tell a little Vaughn girl not to do something and this is what happens. “Then you gave me a bracelet. And I asked for donuts this morning, but my mommy said no. I had to eat egg whites.” She makes a face. “I like donuts. So I decided to spend the day with you.”
“Oh, shit,” Ronnie says. She stands up and pushes her unruly blonde hair out of her eyes just like Vivi did. “She’s one of them.”
“One of who?” Spencer and I ask this question together.
“One of those health-conscious people,” Ronnie says. “Egg whites? Oh, my God. Please tell me you did not feed this child crap all day.” I just stare at her. “You did feed her though, right?”
“Oh, I ate a lot today,” Vivi chimes in. “I had the donut. I haaaad… the jackalope dog. I haaaad… the SpaghettiOs and meatballs. But then I puked it all up after the octopus ride at the swap meet, so we got mac and cheese bites.” She sighs. “Do we have any more of those?”
Veronica and Spencer just look at me like I’m the worst.
“What?” I ask. “None of that will kill her, OK? We all ate SpaghettiOs at some point in our messed-up childhoods.”
“Not all of us,” Spencer says.
“Fuck you, Spencer.”
“OK, no more swearing, Vic. This girl belongs to a mother who feeds her egg whites.” Ronnie cups a hand over one side of her mouth so she can whisper, “She’s not like us.” Then she sweeps a finger across her throat and clicks her tongue, telling me to knock it off with the F-word.
The phone rings in my hand and I answer it on speaker. “Yep.”
“Mr. Vaughn.”
“Yep.”
“I’m gonna need you to take the child down to the Bellvue substation. Do you know where that is?”
“There are a total of two buildings in Bellvue, Colorado. Of course I know where the sheriff lives.”
“It’s inside the post office,” Spencer adds. I snap my fingers at him to shut up.
“Take her there. The sheriff is waiting.”
“That’s it? Just take her there? I’m not going to prison?”
“I’m not sure about that yet. I’ll be there, but it will take me a little while to get the helicopter and limo arranged. Do not answer any questions until I get there. Do you understand me?”
“Yep,” Spencer says. “We know the drill.”
“You hand over the child, do whatever they tell you, and wait for me.”
“Got it,” I say, then end the call. “Can one of you drive us? I’m thinking it’s a bad idea to show up in the dragon bike.”