The Seven Husbands of Evelyn Hugo
: Chapter 35

IT IS THREE IN THE morning by the time I get home. Evelyn had downed four cups of coffee and apparently felt wired enough to keep talking.

I could have bowed out at any point, but on some level, I think I welcomed the excuse not to go back to my own life for a little while. Being wrapped up in digesting Evelyn’s story means I don’t have to exist in my own.

And anyway, it’s not my place to go making the rules. I picked my battle. I won. The rest is up to her. Sᴇaʀᴄh thᴇ FɪndNøvel.ɴet website on Gøøglᴇ to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

So when I get home, I crawl into bed and will myself to fall asleep quickly. My last thought as I go to sleep is that I am relieved I have a valid excuse for why I haven’t responded to David’s text yet.

I’m woken up by my cell phone ringing, and I look at the time. It’s almost nine. It’s Saturday. I was hoping to sleep in.

My phone shows my mother’s face smiling at me. It’s not quite six her time. “Mom? Is everything OK?”

“Of course it is,” she says, as if she’s calling at noon. “I just wanted to try to catch you and say hi before you headed out for the day.”

“It’s not even six A.M. where you are,” I say. “And it’s the weekend. I’m mostly planning on sleeping in and transcribing some of my hours of Evelyn recordings.”

“We had a small earthquake about a half hour ago, and now I can’t go back to sleep. How is it going with Evelyn? I feel weird calling her Evelyn. Like I know her or something.”

I tell her about getting Frankie to agree to a promotion. I tell her that I got Evelyn to agree to a cover story.

“You’re telling me you went up against the editor in chief of Vivant and Evelyn Hugo both within twenty-four hours? And you came out getting what you want from everyone?”

I laugh, surprised at how impressive it sounds. “Yeah,” I say. “I guess I did.”

My mom lets out what can only be described as a cackle. “That’s my girl!” she says. “Oof, let me tell you, your father would be beaming right now if he were here. Would just be glowing with pride. He always knew you were going to be a force to be reckoned with.”

I wonder if this is true, not because my mom has ever really lied to me but because it’s just so hard for me to imagine. I can see my dad thinking I’d grow up to be kind or smart; that makes sense. But I’ve never thought of myself as a force to be reckoned with. Maybe I should start thinking of myself that way; maybe I deserve to.

“I kind of am, aren’t I? Don’t mess with me, world. I’m out to get mine.”

“That’s right, honey. That you are.”

As I tell my mom I love her and hang up the phone, I feel proud of myself, smug even.

I have no idea that in less than a week, Evelyn Hugo will finish her story, and I’ll find out what this has all been about, and I will hate her so much that I’ll be truly afraid I might kill her.

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