AllFreeNovel
Share Us
What is he not saying? Am I supposed to read between the lines? Is there another meaning to his words that I don’t understand? Every neuron in my brain fires at the same time. His words don’t match his expression. I open my mouth, but before I can form the words, my brother pulls me up and wraps one arm around my shoulders in a careful hug. He places a kiss on the top of my head and leaves the room.
I stare at the empty doorframe. What the hell just happened?
In slow motion, as if this would delay the inevitable, I swivel back to the desk. George has moved the extra chairs out of the picture, and I lower myself back down, closing my eyes.
I count to twenty before making eye contact with Rhys through the camera. He probably expects me to have a panic attack any second—he's seen enough in the last few weeks. Heck, I almost did have one just a few minutes ago.
I fill my lungs with as much air as possible and hold it in, releasing it only once my lungs begin to scream for air. "I'm ready."
"You sure?" His brows furrow.
I bob my head up and down as confidently as I can because—let's be real—I am nowhere near ready to face my adoptive parents.
Rhys regards me warily before he disappears from the screen, and I wipe my damp palms on my leggings.
"It'll be okay, Miss Lilly." I peer around the monitors to see George give me one of his half-smiles.
I'm unable to respond because fast footfalls echo through the speaker, and Heather's face appears in front of me. She merely stares—hands covering her mouth—as she blinks rapidly against a waterfall of tears.
"Hi, Mom," I whisper hesitantly.
A sob escapes her, and Tristen appears in the frame, followed by Rhys, who remains in the background. Tristen sinks in Rhys's desk chair and pulls his wife to his lap. A gesture that was nothing unusual for them before all of this began. It gives me some comfort that, despite all the secrets, the relationship between the two of them seems to be fine—as much as it can be.
"Hello, sweetheart," Tristen speaks first.
"Hi." The other end of the call starts to swim in front of my vision.
Tristen's expression is not what I am used to. The Marine is nowhere in sight. He is just my father. "How is your back?"
My bottom lip trembles, and I bite down on it to make it stop. His concern is worse than if he were to yell at me for again making irresponsible decisions without talking to them first. Eventually, I manage, "It's good. The burns are healing well."
"Rhys told us you are with family. Are you safe?" His tone is sincere, but he's gathering information.
"I am. I...I wanted to tell you, but there is so much I still have to figure out." The words tumble out. Scanning their faces—seeing them in front of me—Heather and Tristen are my parents. The two people who have raised me for as long as I can remember. Theonly parents I remember. All the secrets and lies, everything that has come to light, and everything still in the dark is unimportant. I want them to know I'm safe, and I hope, with time, they will understand and forgive me—when they learn the truth about Nate.
"Where are y-you?" Heather’s question ends with a hiccupped sob.
"I'm..." I hesitate, not wanting to make it obvious that I’m seeking George's approval. He must sense my distress and steps toward the desk, dipping his chin in confirmation.
I'm about to respond to Heather when he mouths, "Nothing more."
Not wanting to make it obvious that there is someone in the room with me, I focus on the monitor. "I’m in Los Angeles."
Heather and Tristen's eyes widen. The irony of being so close to where it all started is not lost on me.
"Can we speak to your brother?"
My heart skips a beat, and I pause before coming up with the semi truth. "He's not here right now." Technically, he's downstairs.
"But he is keeping you safe. You left because of Francis Turner. How do you know he won't find you there?" The Colonel is back.
"I have twenty-four-seven security at the house. My brother is...wealthy." Understatement of the year.
They exchange a look I can't decipher.
Heather focuses on me with something like hope in her features. "Do you have more family there?"
Brooks’s face flashes in front of my eyes, followed by Audrey's, and I swallow over the lump. "No." I glance down at my hands.
