The Truth About Us

by Tia Souders

  Kaden stood in front of his father, hands shoved in his pockets. The sudden urge to jump out of the car and defend him wound itself around her like a vice, and despite her inner voice warning her to keep her mouth shut, she threw her door open and rounded the car.

  “It was my fault.”

  Mr. Oliver turned to her, warning in his eyes.

  “I-I convinced him to come out. I needed help and—”

  “Where were you?” His father demanded, ignoring her.

  Abby tensed, her muscles stiffening. Would Kaden tell him?

  He met his father’s gaze head-on, his jaw locked in determination. “I can’t tell you,” he said.

  His father flinched. Several seconds passed as he opened and closed his mouth like a fish, obviously unused to defiance. Even Abby had to admit it took gall to be so blunt.

  “You can’t tell me?” Mr. Oliver clenched his jaw so hard, Abby thought it might crack. “I told you over and over not to get involved with anyone, especially not her, that it was a bad idea. First, skipping school and snooping in old murder cases. Now you’re sneaking out of the house? She is nothing but trouble.” He gestured toward her, seething. “And you think you get to have secrets now? That you don’t need to tell me where you were or what you were doing?” He shook his head in disgust as he locked eyes with Abby.

  Despite his hostility, there was something else fueling his emotions, something indiscernible as his chest heaved and he struggled for breath. Something like fear.

  He pinched the bridge of his nose. “I’m glad you had fun out wherever you were because I just took your sister to the hospital. The hospital, Kaden. And I couldn’t even stay with her because I had to come home and search for my missing son!” His voice cracked on the words, and Kaden’s face fell, the hard lines morphing from righteous anger to panic.

  “What’s wrong?” He stepped forward, his arms outstretched, reaching for an explanation, while Abby watched, her stomach at the ground by her feet.

  “What happened?” Kaden asked again.

  The muscles in Mr. Oliver’s jaw twitched before he found his voice. “Sophie spiked a fever, and when I tried to get her up, she was listless, not responding. Her gaze wouldn’t focus. Imagine being scared to death at your unresponsive daughter, then running to your son’s room, where you think he’s studying only to find him gone. Gone!” His voice rose and fell as it cracked with emotion.

  Mr. Oliver ran his hands over his face, holding them over his eyes for a moment like he could somehow press back the rising tide inside.

  With her chest tight, Abby glanced at Kaden. He stood stone-still, looking every bit shell-shocked, staring at the grass by his feet.

  When his father dropped his arms, he said, “I need to get back to the hospital.”

  “I’m coming,” Kaden said, voice shaking.

  Nodding, Mr. Oliver headed toward his car in the driveway.

  Abby reached out and placed a hand on Kaden’s arm. “Kaden, I—”

  “I think you’d better go,” he said, without meeting Abigail’s gaze, and before she could say anything else, he was gone—hurrying toward the waiting car.

  ABBY’S WHOLE WEEKEND was a bust. She had yet to hear from Kaden.

  Had it really only been a week since she ran him over with her car? It felt like he’d always been a part of her life, and she hated not being able to see him. She longed for his presence, his twinkling brown eyes, his sober expression, the sound of his voice...

  If only he had a dang phone.

  She crossed her legs, tucking them underneath her and sinking further into the mattress of her bed, her thoughts consumed with what may or may not have happened to Kaden’s sister. What if Sophie was severely ill or worse? The thought terrified her, along with the knowledge no matter how his sister was doing, this incident would cause Mr. Oliver to shut down and be even more protective of him. If Kaden was discouraged from having a social life before, he certainly wasn’t going to be free to have one now. And if something terrible did happen to Sophie, would Kaden blame her? Would he resent her for having him sneak out of the house on the night she fell ill?

  Abby clutched the roots of her hair, staring down at her open laptop and squeezed her eyes shut. Even the papers they found at Leanne’s weren’t enough to keep her occupied. A quick internet search confirmed the Department of Justice was closed for the weekend. She left a message for the head of the Special Investigations Unit to call her back, but she wasn’t expecting much. After all, if Mr. Klein couldn’t tell her anything because of client confidentiality and Mr. Oliver couldn’t, what were the chances this guy could? It seemed playing by the rules led to one giant roadblock.

  As for the Belladonna that killed Lawson, she researched the plant—a bush with bell-shaped flowers and shiny black berries. She had never seen it before and wasn’t sure identifying it would benefit them, but she saved the pictures on her phone, regardless. The only other piece of the puzzle was Anna Gutman, and she had yet to determine how to handle her phone call, which left her temporarily empty-handed and clueless as to what to do next.

  It seemed that without Kaden she was stuck.

  Looking for something else to take her mind off of everything, she shut her laptop and wandered downstairs. Her mother sat at her desk in the parlor, head bent over a stack of files, likely work she brought home for the weekend in an effort to catch up after her time off. Not wanting to disturb her, Abby made her way toward the family room. The sounds of the television trickled into the hall as she neared.

  When she rounded the corner and entered, she watched a moment as her grandfather stared at the spot just below the television. His gaze was cloudy and unfocused, clearly not watching the sitcom in front of him.

  Maybe she wasn’t the only one that needed a reprieve from her thoughts.

  Clearing her throat, she entered the room. “Hey, Grandpa. Whatcha doin’?”

  He blinked over at her a moment before he smiled. “Oh, just watching one of these goofy shows.”

  “Is it a good one?”

  He gave her a noncommittal shrug and grunted, slumping back into the armchair. Dark rings circled his eyes, speaking of lost sleep. Abby had always thought he looked younger than his years. Her mother used to tease him that he robbed the cradle with GG, but that no one would know it, and he’d quip back, insisting his good looks and youthful face were a sign of good breeding.

  But today, he looked every bit his age.

  Parentheses creased his mouth, and the wrinkles surrounding his eyes threatened to swallow them whole.

  “You wanna get out of here?” Abby asked.

  He glanced at her, his eyes wide. “Where to?”

  “Wanna play a game? Like old times? I know a place that has a really nice wooden set,” she said, referring to Daily Grind which had a huge board game area in the back of the coffee shop, complete with a nice chess set.

  A small grin curled his worn lips, and he nodded.

  Though Abby worried a ride in GG’s car might affect her grandfather’s mood, by the time they arrived at the shop and ordered two iced coffees with extra caramel, her grandfather’s eyes already seemed brighter.

  They took a seat in the back, preferring the small bistro table and chairs to the leather love seat, and set their game board up. Abby chose black, while her grandfather picked the natural wooden color.

  “Gosh, how long’s it been since we played?” Abby asked.

  “A while.” Her grandfather moved his first pawn. “I guess seniors in high school are too cool to play chess with their old grandpa.”

  Abby laughed as she met his gaze, glittering as he teased. “Like I’d ever say no to a game.”

  They fell silent, concentrating on the game, both of them moving pawns and shifting pieces over the next thirty minutes. Abby’s brow furrowed as she moved, allowing her grandfather’s bishop access to one other pawn. Muttering under her breath, she moved her pawn, but he matched it with his queen.

  As they played, he
r thoughts drifted to Kaden once again, unable to forget him. He thought she should talk to her grandfather about everything, and though she had been against it at first, maybe it was the guilt from Friday night or the ease with which her grandfather and she settled back into their routine of the game, but she found herself broaching the subject.

  “Grandpa?” she asked, and he snickered as he swiped a pawn.

  “Yeah?” He glanced up at her as she took her turn.

  “Why don’t you ever talk about the war?”

  He froze, his crooked fingers clutching his knight. “Not much to say.”

  “I know it would be hard, but don’t you think it might help to share it with someone? You know, kinda like therapy?”

  He made his move, then blinked over at her, his eyes hooded below his salt and pepper eyebrows. “I’ve had a lifetime of therapy. Forgetting is the only thing that matters.”

  Abby nodded, not wanting to upset him. After all, this outing was supposed to be a reprieve from his grief, not another source of it.

  “I get that. Actually, if anyone does, it’s me.” Abby moved, stealing one of his pawns, then took a sip of her coffee, unable to quite let it go. “I’d like to know more, though. Because I love you,” she added, when her grandfather glanced up at her, shaking his head. His hands shook in front of him. “Did you maybe ever write about it? Do you have anything you could give me from your time there?”

  Abby turned her attention to the board. The second she moved, she knew she made a mistake, but she had been distracted by her questions and her grandfather’s silence. In one sweep, her grandfather took her pawn and checked her king. Though Abby took his queen next, he moved his bishop and delivered on his checkmate.

  Frowning, she stared at the board. “Maybe I’m rustier than I thought.”

  “Too much talking,” her grandfather said, then winked at her.

  Smiling, Abby stood. “Didn’t you say the winner was treating the loser to a pastry? I could’ve sworn...” she trailed off as her grandfather stood. His laughter rumbled from his chest, a welcome sound.

  They made their way to the counter to order. Abby picked out a triple chocolate brownie, while her grandfather opted for a slice of pie. While the barista working the counter, a middle-aged woman with dark eyes and hair and a kind smile, retrieved their dessert, Abby and her grandfather talked about school and how it all would be over soon. How she’d be starting a new chapter in her life.

  The barista placed their food on the counter, then rung them up. Reaching into his back pocket, her grandfather grabbed his wallet and rummaged through it for a handful of bills.

  Abby stared at the faded blue ink on his arm, no longer needing to wonder what that day was like with the journal entries fresh in her mind. Following Abby’s line of sight, the woman at the counter gently pushed his hand away at the offered bills.

  “It’s my treat,” she said.

  Confused, Abby blinked over at her, wondering why the peculiar behavior, when she leaned forward. A beautiful pendant made of blue stone hung from her neck, carved in a shape of something Abby didn’t see too often—the Star of David.

  She gripped her grandfather’s hand, eyes shining.

  “We won,” she said. At her grandfather’s look of confusion, she added, “My grandmother was a survivor. You’re here and so is she. We won the fight.”

  Her grandfather’s face contorted, and he wrenched his hand back like he was burned. Shaking, he took a step back.

  The woman placed a hand over her chest. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to upset you. I—”

  “You didn’t win. None of us did,” her grandfather said. When he turned, he headed for the exit, their desserts forgotten.

  Abby’s mouth opened. “Uh, I’m sorry. He doesn’t like to talk about it,” she said to the woman whose eyes filled with tears.

  Running after him, she waited until the door closed behind them, then yelled, “What was that about?”

  Her grandfather turned on shaking legs. He tucked his arm into his side like he was trying to hide the numbers etched into his skin, and Abby’s heart went out to him.

  She stepped closer, her throat tight with emotion. “Grandpa, she was just trying to be nice. She was happy. It’s okay to be happy you made it.”

  He said nothing, his gaze focused on the ground.

  “Can we please go back inside? Play another game?” Abby asked.

  When he finally looked at her again, he nodded. “No more talking about...” His voice caught, unable to finish his thought.

  Abby nodded in response and they made their way back inside to their game in the back. A bit later, another café worker, brought their desserts to the table. They ate them in silence as they played. This time Abby focused, determined to beat him and lighten the mood.

  “Checkmate,” she announced, smiling.

  Her gaze flickered to the counter at the front of the shop, unable to erase the prickly feeling of being watched, but the barista who served them was no longer there. By the time they left, the incident had been forgotten, and it wasn’t until they were almost home that Abby realized the source of the feeling. The man on the sofa, the one that sat down before they started their second game, she had seen him before.

  The day she skipped school with Kaden, the man had been there reading the paper, but even then, she remembered the way she had caught his gaze on her more than once. Even then, she had felt like she was being watched.

  But it was probably a coincidence. Wasn’t it? Regulars flocked to Daily Grind. Someone could easily say the same thing about Abby. But Kaden’s words floated through her head, once again, about there being no such thing as a coincidence. She couldn’t shake the feeling he was right.

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  Abby flopped back in her bed and picked up her cell phone for the millionth time. Out of habit, she checked the screen hoping for a call or text from Kaden before remembering he had no phone. It was almost six o’clock Sunday, and she still hadn’t heard from him.

  Ugh. What kind of eighteen-year-old didn’t own a cell phone?

  On a whim, she opened her messages and clicked on Cammie in her contacts, then typed before she could think better of it.

  Abby: Hey, I have a problem. I was hoping for some advice?

  Abby bit her lips as she pushed send, hoping Cammie was around. She had little experience in this area, and she needed help from someone who did.

  Cammie: What’s up?

  Relief washed over her.

  Abby: Friday night, when I took Kaden home, his dad was waiting for him. He found out Kaden snuck out, but to make matters worse, his sister was sick, and his dad had to take her to the hospital.

  Cammie: Uh-oh. Hope she’s alright.

  Abby: Me too. The thing is, I haven’t heard from him. I’m afraid he’s mad at me for making him go out.

  Nothing. Abby waited, continuously refreshing her screen. Why wasn’t she answering? Did she agree that he was probably mad?

  Cammie: Hold on a minute. I had to pick my jaw up off the floor.

  Huh?

  Cammie: Are you, Abby Bridges, asking me for boy advice? OMG. It just got real.

  Abby scowled at her phone and jabbed at her keyboard.

  Abby: I’m serious!!

  Cammie: So am I!!

  Cammie: Okay, seriously. I doubt he’s mad at you. Why would he be mad? You hardly dragged him out of his window and you didn’t force him to sneak out.

  Abby: I know but it was my idea and this whole thing with my grandmother and the detective is my thing, not his. So, aren’t I to blame by default? Plus, he seemed upset with me.

  Abby remembered the way he looked at her and told her to go home. It hurt just thinking about it.

  Cammie: No. Kaden’s a big boy. He made his own choice. But if you’re so worried, why don’t you just call him?

  Abby: I would love to, but he doesn’t have a phone.

  Cammie: What?!?!?

  Abby: I know!

 
Cammie: So, go to his house.

  Abby: His dad hates me.

  Cammie: How could his dad...wait never mind. I’m beginning to suspect there’s a lot I don’t know. Just go. Who cares about his dad. You’re worried about Kaden AND his sister. If his dad doesn’t like it, tell him to shove it.

  Abby: Okay. You’re right, except for that last part. I’m not doing that. Thx!

  Cammie: Any time. And you should do it. Tell him to shove it, that is.

  Abby crammed her phone back in her pocket and sprung off her bed. She was going to his house whether his dad liked it or not. No matter how mad he may be, she’d get him to talk to her. She’d smooth things over because the only thing worse than this scavenger hunt GG sent her on was doing it alone. And not just alone but without him.

  The sudden realization that she wanted Kaden in her life more than she wanted answers scared her more than any mysterious family secret ever could.

  BY THE TIME SHE PULLED up to his house and made her way to the front door, she forgot everything she planned on saying. The entire drive, she rehearsed her apology, but now, her mind drew a blank.

  Raising her fist to knock, she pushed her shoulders back, preparing herself for two possibilities. Mr. Oliver would answer and send her away, or Kaden himself would tell her to leave. The latter notion sat in the pit of her stomach like rotten fruit.

  She rapped on the door once and waited. When she heard nothing, she knocked a second time, followed by the telltale thud of footsteps from inside. She straightened her spine, feigning confidence despite the way her heart leapt into her throat.

  The door swung open, and Kaden stood in front of her. His tall, slim form loomed over top of her petite frame. His golden locks stuck up in little tufts like he’d been sleeping half the day while dark circles encapsulated his eyes.

  When the sight of her registered, his eyes widened the tiniest fraction. “Oh, hey.”

  Abby twisted her hands in front of her body, her nerves on edge. “Hey. Um, I was out and thought I’d stop by. I wanted to check on you. See if you were okay and see how Sophie was doing...”