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The Truth About Us

Page 11

by Tia Souders


  She hesitated, then turned her gaze to his, acknowledging the slight emptiness in her chest at the thought of never having another morning like this—the two of them, sitting on the lawn, talking, working together, and coming up with a plan. In fact, she wondered if maybe this was what real friendship was like, not just hanging with the girls at school but actually letting one of them in, having someone to share her secrets and fears with, having someone to confide in.

  But now, with her grandmother gone, it felt as though the life she had known tipped on its axis. Suddenly, she wished she had spent more time nurturing her other relationships instead of pushing them aside. How many times had Cammie asked her to go out with them over the weekend, and she turned them down? And where did that get her? The loss of GG left a gaping hole in her life that needed to be filled. She had put all her love and care into only a couple of relationships. And as she stared at Kaden, she realized Cammie was right. She needed a friend. She needed to get out and forget her worries and be a teenager. She needed to have fun and do things with her peers.

  Was that what Kaden was being? A friend? Or was it more?

  Abby released her lip from her teeth, allowing her gaze to linger on his face, the square line of his jaw, and his chocolate eyes. When he reached out and clasped her hand firmly in his, her heart leapt. The warmth from the contact sunk into her bones.

  “I want to help more than I care about what my dad will think or say. Why do you think I came with you today?”

  The tension drained from her rigid spine. Abby smiled and squeezed his hand. “Okay, then. I just wanted you to know you had an out. You’re under no obligation to see this through. It was my grandmother’s wish for me to do this. Not yours. As long as you know that, then we’re good.”

  Kaden rolled his eyes and stood, pulling her up with him. “I got it. You’re not as persuasive as you think.”

  She quirked a brow at him. “Really? Because I’m pretty sure I coerced you into the whole skipping school thing?”

  “Like it was that hard.”

  “Still...”

  Kaden glanced around them. “Maybe we should get out of here. No matter how old your grandfather is, I’d rather not have him return and see us sitting in this particular spot with evidence we’ve been snooping.”

  Abby snickered. “Are you afraid of my eighty-seven-year-old grandpa?”

  Glaring, he waved a hand up and down her body, heating every square inch of her as he gestured. “No, but we’re not so secretive when we’re caught red-handed like this, and it’s supposed to be a secret, right? I think you’d have trouble explaining this one.”

  She glanced down at her dirt-smudged jeans to the shovel, hole, and mounds of earth around them and grimaced. “Good point.”

  She moved toward the shovel, but Kaden grabbed it before she could and filled the hole up with ease. He finished five times faster than it took her to dig it out in the first place, which was only slightly vexing but a lot impressive. Once they were finished, key in hand, they made their way back to the car.

  “So, what’s the plan now?” Kaden asked as they stopped in front of her car. “We can’t exactly walk into the precinct yet since we’re supposed to be at school. My dad would really blow a gasket.”

  Abby pursed her lips. “I thought about that. I think we should work on one of the other unknowns. I think we need to find out who this person was my grandmother spoke to, the one she thought might be a relative.”

  Kaden frowned. “Did your grandmother say to contact her?”

  “No, but I think it’s worth following up on. If she is connected to my family, she could be a huge help.”

  “Maybe she isn’t related. Could be just a waste of time. I mean, we’re talking about around six million Jews being killed. I’m sure there were a lot of victims with the same name.”

  “True.” Pushing off the car, Abby couldn’t shake the feeling there was something her grandmother wasn’t telling her about the woman she mentioned.

  She stared out at the road, her thoughts churning, while something she couldn’t put her finger on nibbled at the back of her head. Glancing over at Kaden, she unlocked the car and rounded to the driver’s side. “It could be nothing. You could be right, but something tells me she’s important.”

  Abby opened her door and climbed inside and waited until Kaden followed suit.

  He turned to her in his seat. “So, how do we find this relative? We don’t have a private investigator.”

  “She didn’t use Lawson to find her. Think about it. If you had a relative from Auschwitz and you wanted to find out if anyone else you knew survived, how would you do it?”

  Kaden’s gaze fixed on the dashboard, as he grew silent, then said, “Some sort of registry? Usually after any sort of tragedy with a lot of deaths, there’s some record of survivors for that sole purpose.”

  Abby flashed him an answering smile. “Exactly. So, I’m going to make a call to GG’s friend, Alvarez, at the museum. I don’t know what their normal process is, but he knows me, so I think he’ll give me whatever information I want over the phone.”

  “That makes sense. So, I take it your grandfather has one of these tattoos. But how do you plan on getting his number? Are we just going to roll-on by your house during school hours and say, ‘Hey grandpa, let us see the permanent scar you carry from the war? You know, the most excruciating period of your life, so we can dig up some long-lost relatives and you can relive the horror of it all.’”

  Abby eyed him as she backed out of the driveway. “If you must know, Mr. Cynical, I already have his number.

  “You know his number? How?”

  “I have it memorized.”

  “You memorized his Auschwitz prisoner number?” Kaden blinked at her in disbelief.

  “Yup.” An image of the faded ink on her grandfather’s arm flashed in her head. “When you’re a kid growing up and someone you love has that kind of scar, and you’re told—warned—never to speak of it, not to ask about it or mention it, it kind of sticks with you. You become curious. I spent years gathering whatever scraps of his past over snippets of conversations. It’s like telling someone not to picture a zebra in their head. Once you tell them that, it’s all they can do. And you fill in the gaps however you can—history lessons, pieces of the truth. So, yeah, I memorized that number. I guess it was too hard not to.”

  She glanced over at Kaden, who watched her as she drove. His eyes held a faraway look like he was a million miles away. Underneath his carefree façade was another side of him, one she was just getting to know, and she found herself wondering what he was thinking. In the blink of an eye, he turned to his window and the passing highway, the spell broken.

  “Kind of like when my mom had cancer,” he said. “I was only eleven, and I was supposed to somehow accept the truth that she was dying but never talk about it. It was the elephant in the room. Always there. Always obvious, but we weren’t allowed to say it, which made you think about it so much more.”

  Glancing back at her, his eyes softened. “Sometimes, I wonder if it would’ve been a whole lot easier had we all come out and talked about it. If we had we said out loud, ‘Mom’s dying, we’re going to lose her,’ and defined what that meant to each of us...” He fell silent for a moment, then added, “Maybe my dad would have moved on by now. Maybe he’d be better than he is.”

  Abby reached over and placed a hand over his, lending him whatever comfort she had to give in her touch. He stiffened for a moment, then relaxed, angling his body closer as he stared at the passing landscape outside, lost in his thoughts.

  After a moment, he interlaced their fingers, like it was no big deal. Like Abby’s heart hadn’t leapt from her chest into her throat. Like the heat from his hand hadn’t interlocked so intimately in hers like it was the most natural thing in the world.

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  “Crap!” Abigail hung up and glanced across the café table at Kaden as he sipped his coffee.

  “That doesn�
��t sound good,” he said.

  She groaned, running a hand through her dark hair, frustrated at the information she just received. “Yeah, you could say that,” she said, then slammed the palms of her hands against the table.

  Several heads turned, assessing her. Shrinking into her seat, she crossed her arms over her chest. “They have records. Apparently, Mr. Alvarez hooked my grandmother up with someone who helped her so he doesn’t have the information himself. You can perform a search with a number, but you have to submit a form either through the information office of the Auschwitz Memorial Museum or the International Tracing Service of the Red Cross. The Holocaust Museum in Washington where my grandmother volunteered doesn’t have any records and can’t provide me with this information.”

  “Then we submit a form,” Kaden said, shrugging.

  Abby straightened. “And wait? How long? I want to know now,” she said, pointing to the table. “There has to be a way.” She stared at the scarred table, searching for answers, then wrapped her hands around her coffee cup, needing the warmth of the hot brew to soothe her nerves. “I bet all this stuff was in the safety deposit box. And, of course, we don’t have the key. Who knows what other information was in there. Gosh, this sucks.”

  “So, what do we do now? Forget the surviving relative angle and just talk with my dad?” Kaden asked.

  “Maybe.” Abigail gritted her teeth before lifting the steaming cup to her mouth. “But there’s one other person I know who probably has answers. And we’re going to get them, but I need to think of a way first.”

  “Your grandfather?”

  Abby took a sip of coffee, peering at Kaden over her cup. Guilt surfaced on the edges of her thoughts. Maybe it was a mistake to get Kaden involved. The last thing she wanted to do was get him in trouble and what she was contemplating could definitely get them in trouble.

  She set her cup down and cleared her throat. “My grandmother’s lawyer.”

  “Wait, what?” Kaden scrunched his nose. The gesture softened his face, making him look years younger than his eighteen, rather than the six-foot-two long-legged teenager.

  “He’s the one that’s been giving me the letters, and he knows way more than he’s letting on. He has to, but he can’t tell me anything because of stupid client confidentiality.” Abby rolled her eyes.

  “Um, those laws are kind of important.”

  “My grandmother’s gone; what’s the point in confidentiality now?”

  Kaden shrugged. “What are you thinking?”

  I’m thinking of breaking into his office and stealing my grandmother’s file. Of course, Abby couldn’t tell him that, and he couldn’t be with her when she did it either. It was too risky for him, considering his dad’s profession. For now, she’d keep quiet.

  “I don’t know. I’ll think on it,” she lied. “In the meantime, let’s go over what we know about Lawson. We need to be prepared before we talk to your father.”

  The door to the coffee shop chimed as patrons entered. Abby glanced at the door and noticed the man at the small table across from them. He peered at her over his newspaper, but when she caught his eye, he glanced back down to the article. Scooching closer to Kaden, she tried to ignore the feeling he was listening to them and lowered her voice.

  “We know, based on the articles I found that he drowned and was found in the reservoir in Newberry, which is like a couple hour’s drive from here. We don’t know a lot about the area, but from what we can tell, it’s a small town, fairly rural.”

  “We’re pretty sure your grandmother hired him but not positive,” Kaden added.

  “Yes, and if he was the investigator she hired, then we know she hired him to research my grandfather’s family tree and the possibility of living relatives.”

  Kaden frowned. “Is that seriously it? That’s all we know? It’s practically nothing,” he said, exhaling with his displeasure.

  “Well, we also know he found something else, something much bigger, evidence of whatever it was GG had suspected. By that time though, GG had called the investigation off and stopped paying him. She no longer wanted to pursue it. The question was what he did with the newfound information before he died.”

  “And if it could’ve contributed to his death.”

  Abby nodded. “Right. I mean, we have no evidence it did, but I have this gut feeling. I don’t know.” She shook her head. “Something about the whole thing is off.”

  “Well, well, well. What do we have here?”

  The sound of the voice startled Abby. Her head jerked up to meet Cammie’s bright green eyes, glittering with curiosity.

  She stood in front of their table, one brow quirked, a paper cup poised by her lips.

  How long had she been standing there? How much of their conversation did she hear?

  “Hey, Cammie,” Abby croaked.

  “So, you finally decide to do something exciting and skip school, and you don’t include me? I’m hurt. Seriously hurt.” Cammie held a hand over her heart, then turned her gaze on Kaden, a slow smile snaking its way over her face. “And who is Mr. McHottie?”

  Abby risked a glance to Kaden whose lips quirked, but based on the flush in his cheeks, he obviously wasn’t used to anyone referring to him as being hot. All his normal bravado had vanished in the presence of someone else, reminding her he probably wasn’t always so self-assured. At school, he was quiet and kept to himself, a product of his lack of socialization. Maybe he was only confident and extroverted around her.

  Finding her voice, Abby gestured toward him. “Cammie, this is Kaden Oliver. Kaden, this is Cammie.”

  Cammie squinted. “Wait. Aren’t you in my history class?”

  “Yeah, I think so,” he said.

  “I never see you around. Anywhere. In fact, I think my history class is the only place I’ve ever seen your face. Are you like a hobbit or something?

  “Seriously?” Abby asked.

  “What?” Cammie shrugged. “It’s a valid question.”

  “I don’t get out much,” Kaden said.

  “Great. You two are like a match made in heaven.” Cammie rolled her eyes. “So, do you like her?”

  “Cammie!” Abby hissed.

  She took a sip of her coffee, then blinked her wide eyes at Abby like she had no idea what the big deal was.

  “I’m just asking. He’s cute, and you never hang out with boys. So, he must be interested in you, right? It’s a valid question. And you have, like, zero experience so I’ve gotta have your back.”

  Okay, never mind. So, not fun. Abby wanted to sink to the floor and die.

  “Well?” Cammie asked, returning her gaze to Kaden.

  “She won’t give up until you answer,” Abby said.

  She may not hang out with Cammie much, but she was brutally honest and extroverted to the core. It was probably the only reason their friendship had lasted, despite Abby’s constantly flaking on weekend plans.

  “I do,” Kaden said.

  Abby glanced up at him, surprised at the straightforward answer.

  His eyes locked with hers as he continued, “But I’ve made that clear, so maybe you should ask her how she feels.” He smirked, despite his still-red cheeks.

  Turning to her with amusement in her eyes, Cammie said, “Well?”

  “You both are ridiculous.” Flustered, Abby crossed her arms over her chest. “What are you doing here?”

  “I have a dentist appointment. Figured I’d get my mocha fix beforehand, but you never told me why you’re skipping.” Cammie cocked her hip, eyeing her. “I mean, suddenly skipping class and talking to boys. You were awfully distracted in class the other day, too. Not to mention you two were looking pretty cozy when I came in.”

  Cammie paused and narrowed her eyes. “If you two are officially dating and you didn’t tell me, I will be totally PO’d. Not only did you blow off the baseball game the other day, but not telling me about a boy? That’s wrong on so many levels.”

  “We’re not dating.”

 
“Then what were you two whispering about?”

  “Nothing. We’re working on a school project. That’s all.”

  “I don’t see your bookbags.”

  Abby put her head in her hands. “Oh. My. Gosh. You’re relentless.”

  “No. I just call it like I see it, and you, my dear, are hiding something. I see it written all over your face. You’re a terrible liar. I, on the other hand, can lie at the drop of a dime.”

  “Wow, what an accomplishment,” Abby muttered, but Cammie wasn’t having it.

  She wagged a finger in front of her. “Uh-uh. Nope. You’re not distracting me. We’re talking about you and whatever you’re not telling me. And I should be taking major offense, by the way, because you’ve clearly confided in him,” she motioned to Kaden, “instead of me.”

  It was true, and a part of Abby felt guilty, especially when Cammie had told her she’d hoped they could become closer. Abby had agreed, and friends shared secrets. That’s what they did. Maybe she should’ve confided in Cammie instead, but something about Kaden made it so easy to trust him. It was just...effortless.

  “I’m sorry. I—”

  “Save it!” Cammie lifted her hand to stop her, as her gaze zeroed in on Abby’s arms.

  The journal!

  Abby had forgotten she took it out when she and Kaden sat down.

  “Isn’t that...?”

  “Nothing,” Abby said, further covering the journal with her arms. “Like I said, we’re working on a project for school. See?” She flashed the book then quickly shoved it into her messenger bag.

  “That’s what I caught you reading in the bathroom the other day at school.”

  “No, I don’t think so.”

  “It totally is.” Cammie eyed her before plopping down in the chair next to her.

  “What are you doing?” Abby asked.

  “Sitting. And I’m not leaving until you tell me what’s going on and what’s in that book of yours.”

  Abby glanced over at Kaden, wide-eyed, looking for help, but he had nothing. “Aren’t you going to be late for your appointment?” Abby asked.

 

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