Page 72 of Lethal Weakness

He’s been watching me from the moment we got here, and yet he won’t tell me anything.

He has been inside that mansion. I know it. Which means he’s still lying to me.

Whatever high I was riding comes crashing down so fast my stomach rolls. “Get out.”

He searches my eyes that have gone dull right in front of him. “Linden, I–”

“Get out, Jack. Don’t come back.”

He’s working for them… Which means he isn’t on my side.

Chapter Twenty-Five

O’Connor

Zero for six. I’ve been in the mansion six nights in a row and haven’t found another way into the cellar. But that’s not what’s torturing me.

Being pushed away by Linden is killing me. I thought I was used to the sting of being forgotten and pushed aside.

Being forced out by the Navy felt like the ultimate betrayal. That was my home, and the only thing I knew.

This feels a million times worse.

She doesn’t speak to me when we see each other outside. She doesn’t let Avery come talk to me.

She doesn’t look out her window as much as she used to.

I used to try my best to be invisible, but now it doesn’t matter…

She’s not looking at me at all.

At least tonight I can hide in the shadows and observe Avery from afar. Her laughter fills the cold interior of this mansion with warmth that they don’t deserve.

Linden doesn’t trust me, but I’ll still be here to keep her daughter safe.

“1, 2, 3, 4, 5, uh… 7, 8, 9, 10. Ready or not, here I tum!” Avery yells down the hallway outside of the kitchen, where I’m concealed in the wine cellar.

Luckily, it’s an old room meant for staff functions and not for show. There are crates lining the walls, leaving me ample room to hide.

“Found you, Grandpa!” She squeals and comes running past the kitchen again as he counts. I hear the next door over fling open as she presumably hides in the pantry.

I relax against the wall after Edmund passes by the wine cellar and continues on.

“Hello.” My entire body jolts at the sound of her little voice. Avery is standing a few feet away from me, looking directly at me.

The door never opened; she’s backlit by the pantry light.

There’s a small cubbyhole linking the two rooms that is nowhere in the blueprints. It has to be shorter than my kneecaps, and no bigger than a foot and a half across.

Just big enough for a case of wine to be pushed from one room to another, or for a little girl to crawl through.

She’s staring at me curiously, but without fear as I hold up a finger to my mask-covered mouth, asking her to stay quiet.

“Are you playing hide and seek, too?” She asks quietly.

I nod silently, and she giggles.

“I won’t tell.” She scampers back through the hole and shuts the little door behind her just as Edmund searches in the pantry for her.