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As I recall everything my adopted parents told me, Nate grips the tabletop, his knuckles turning white. Anxiety is radiating off of him, and I'm not sure if this is because of Turner or because it's the first time we're actually talking about one of the other girls.
"You believe Turner is behind it?" George looks at me for confirmation.
My gut feeling is as strong as ever. "Who else would have reason to contact one particular family—not even the family, just Mr. Conway, and cause him to raise questions?"
"Mr. Conway could simply want to seek closure, and with no real progress in the case—"
"Conway is a drunk. There is no way he came up with that on his own. He hasn’t spoken to his daughter in years," Nate interrupts.
A flush of adrenaline shoots through me, and I stare at him. "How do you know that?"
My brother holds my eyes. "After you resurfaced, I looked into everyone. I hadn't checked on them since uh...you know. After I brought you back to Santa Rosa and you started talking to me, I made sure they were all okay. I wanted to know where to find them when I turn myself in."
We have never spoken about it this openly, and somehow, I didn't think Nate was already making plans for... My mind refuses to finish the sentence. I reach over and place my hand over his, needing the contact. He glances from my hand to my face and back, turning his over and interlacing our fingers.
"You know that I will make it right. You trust me?" He searches my eyes.
My throat thickens, and I swallow hard. "I do."
Nate focuses on the third person at the table but doesn't let go of me. "Conway is a useless drunk; there is no way he is doing this out of worry for his daughter. His wife ran off with another guy when Ava was three. Ava bounced between both homes until she filed for emancipation. I haven't been able to find anything on her in the last few years. She has no bank accounts, no social media, and she definitely has not spoken to either of her parents."
I'm stunned about the details he found out about Ava.
George nods. "What are we doing about it?"
"Camden agreed to delay the questions until you'd be back in Westbridge?" Nate asks in confirmation, and I bob my head up and down, tightening my fingers around his. At this moment, he's my anchor. My big brother. Who will go to prison.
"As long as she doesn’t change her mind, it doesn’t matter then. By the time you go back, everything else will be over as well," my brother declares.
When I’m ready to go back, he’ll have already turned himself in.
