Where Aaron’s name is neatly scrawled.
“I’m not.”
His eyes meet mine—sharper this time. He raises his eyebrows, waiting for me to elaborate. He clearly thinks I’m lying to him.
“It’s—that’s not mine.”
“Then whose is this?”
Shit. Shit shit shit.
“It’s, um—”
“It’s mine,” Cara admits. Nate and I both turn to look at her. “I wrote him.”
“Wrote who?” Cooper asks, eyes darting between Cara in the chair next to him, and me and Nate by the doorway.
“Aaron,” Nate says, still sounding wary.
“Wait, what?” Cooper asks. “You said you haven’t talked in years.”
“I haven’tseenhim in years,” she clarifies, then adds softly, “we still talk sometimes.”
“Are you kidding me, Cara? You’re trying to get off on some technicality.”
“We were friends for a long time before everything happened with Nikki.” Her voice turns pleading. “I just—” She struggles to find the words. “I just don’t have anyone else who knows what I went through.”
“You could’ve talked to me.” Cooper’s voice cracks. “Isn’t that what tomorrow is supposed to be all about?”
Cara has gone pale. “I’m sorry, I just—”
Cooper pushes back from the table, his chair scraping loudly against the hardwood. “Wait—so what the hell is in this letter?”
“Language,” Mom says automatically. But she looks as concerned as Cooper.
“It isn’t what you think,” Cara says. “I never mailed it. It was just me… trying to make sense of that part of my life.”
“I don’t care if you mailed it or not,” Cooper says, his voice rising. The power flickers once, briefly illuminating the strain etched across his face, and then the room plunges into shadow again. “You’ve been keeping secrets from me. We said we would never do that.”
“Yeah, no secrets.” Cara looks guilty, but then, inexplicably, her eyes dart to Nate. “Actually, Coop, there’s something—”
“Cara, don’t.” Nate’s voice is low, laced with warning.
“It’s not fair,” Cara insists, her voice cracking. She glances toward the kitchen doorway—where our parents stand in the faint light from the candles Mom found earlier. “They deserve to know—”
“Cara.” Nate’s tone hardens. The look he gives her makes the air go still.
I glance between them, pulse thudding. What the hell are they talking about? The memory of seeing them arguing outside the other day flashes through my mind. And then, a similar moment at the karaoke bar. There’s something else going on here.
A secret Nate is keeping. A secret they’rebothkeeping.
Possibly it has to do with whatever they argued about yesterday.
Cara shoves back her chair. “Fine,” she says, standing so fast her napkin drops to the floor. “You deal with it.” And then she’s gone—her footsteps sharp against the wood floor before fading up the stairs.
After she’s gone, Cooper whirls on me, eyes bright with anger. “Are you happy now, Nikki?”
“What?”
